Lapse
by Spookrift
Summary: A man begins to notice strange occurrences on his journey: Trees moved, pathways missing, etc. Whats even stranger is the adventure he's about to take part in.
1. Part 1: An Old Trail

Chapter 1: An old Trail

The grass reacted audibly to the presence of wind running along the hills. Behind a tree, a long, thin trail of smoke appeared and danced away into the wind, without a trace. The smoke originated from a long wooden pipe, smoked by a man whose face was obscured by a dark hood. The man sat against the tree, taking brief refuge from the bright sun looming overhead, and running his route in his head over and over again. He had traveled this path countless times, over countless years, but he was never one to risk losing course.

The man puffed the last of his pipe and placed it into his bag. He stood out of the shadow of the tree, the sun revealing his chin, which had a decent stubble to it. He breathed the cool air and felt the direction of the wind. The wind would be travelling with him, rather than against him, like it was yesterday. This would quicken his pace, and he would reach his destination by nightfall, if all goes well. He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He scratched his chin, stretched his arms, and reached for the tree. From the base of the tree, he lifted his most valuable item: A five ft longsword, resting inside a beautiful leather sheath adorned with silver. After a loving gaze at the sword, the man attached it to his belt, fastened all of his straps, surveyed the land before him, and set out down the hills.

On his journey, the man saw the same landmarks he always saw when travelling this path: A bush that had grown off the side of the road for years, slowly starting to decay after it's long life. A strange pile of dirt just to the right of the road. 50 paces further, the man thought to himself, and a distinct oak tree will appear behind a hill. This particular oak tree had lived far longer than the man did. Since the first time he took this path, he had always seen it there, watching as it slowly grew and thickened over the years. As he got closer, a cloud swept over the area and covered it in shadow. The darkness disallowed him from taking the usual close look at the tree that he had become so familiar with. This oak marks the beginning of the forest, as it always had. Within 5 minutes time, he would not see much sun for a few hours.

The man was well into the forest when he heard a branch snap under some notable weight. Instinctively, he pressed against a tree in it's deepest shadow, becoming almost invisible. The man had mastered the art of being unseen over his years, and it saved him in more instances than once.

He peered into the direction he heard the loud snap, seeing nothing. He remained.

Ten minutes had passed with no further sounds. The man left his shadow, but was now listening for even the slightest auditory disturbances. The man couldn't remember the last time he was caught by surprise, and he wasn't keen on letting it happen. He pressed on deeper into the woods, straying from the path and following his own route.

Another sound filled the quiet air, this one very loud. The sound of wood snapping and splintering. It was loud but fast, the sound was gone in an instant. The man looked on from another shadow he hid in, seeing, again, nothing. This sound was no natural forest occurrence, however, and he decided to investigate. He crept along the greenery, slow as a snail, and just as silent. He could tell he was approaching the area of origination for the sound, but still he saw no signs of life. Impossible, the sound was too unnatural for a tree falling over, or something of the sort. It was fast.

He had reached the spot where the sound came from, he was sure of it. He checked his surroundings, and immediately found the source of the sound. What he saw, however, made little sense to him, despite his many years in nature.

An entire tree was pierced directly through another tree. No, not pierced, as there was no damage to the tree present. Instead, it was like the two trees had fused into each other. The man had never seen anything like it. What could have done this? Magic? He decided to continue on his path, as there was no time to waste.

He recognized what came next: The bubbling of a nearby stream. He loved and hated the stream, as it covered the sound of his movement, but also concealed the sound of others'. He knelt done to do what he always did here: He checked the path for signs of recent tracks. This forest path was unpopular enough that tracks would be easy to pick up on. The man saw nothing. He continued.

The path he had taken so many times before seemed to start bending to the left. He was sure it never did that, he was beyond sure. He walked further up the path to find an unfamiliar tree stump sitting just off the road. Not only was he sure that there was no tree stump there before, but he also knew there was no tree there at any point! The man realized that he must have taken a wrong turn, and was very disappointed. He began to walk back.

Within two minutes of his re-route, he discovered the most unwelcoming change of all: The path simply ended right in front of him. No trees blocking the road or anything like that, just straight forest as far in as he could see. Now he knew this was bad. His ability to sense directions and find pathways had always been outstanding, but now he couldn't tell left from right. To make things worse, he was deep into the forest, where little sunlight reached, so he couldn't use it to tell east or west.

"You." A strange voice said from the shadows.

The man spun as fast as a blink and faced the speaker, hand on his sword.

"You look like you can answer my questions." The stranger told the man. The man eyed the shadow-covered stranger, and could make out that it was a tall male. Something of remarkable size was on his back.

"You answer mine first", the man answered back. "Who are you?"

The stranger stepped forward.

"Listen, just tell me where I am, and we'll go our separate ways. No conflict needed."

The man straightened his back, standing back into a neutral position.

"I do not know where this is, currently. I was following my path, and have somehow lost track of my surroundings.

The man could see the stranger's mouth, the only part of him not covered by a massive cloak and hood. He was much larger than the man.

The stranger leaned back, revealing a half-smile and one eye.

"Not much of a nature-goer, are ya?"

Just then, the stranger bent over and put his hand to his neck, appearing to be in pain. He held tightly onto his neck for a few moments before looking up at the man and saying: "Well, it was nice knowing ya."

As if on queue, about 20 demon-like creatures burst forth from the woods. Some bared sharp teeth, others held swords and spears and axes. The man was shocked at the sight, but his instincts told him to pull his sword. He readied his stance and took a deep breath.

The large stranger took the massive object off his back, and gripped it with both hands. In the light, the man could just barely tell that the object was, in fact, a colossal sword! Bigger than any sword that any man could wield. But the stranger had no problem wielding it, and swung it with such speed that it carved two demons in half, essentially causing them to explode.

The man watched in awe, but quickly was shook back into reality by three demons rushing him from the front. The man, no stranger to being outnumbered, tilted his sword forward, and parried the first demon's sword out of it's hand. With it's weapon gone, there was no defense from the man's strike, which severed the demons head clean off. The next two held axes, and attacked at once. The man back stepped to avoid the blows, and with speed like a hawk he simultaneously pulled out a knife from his belt and stabbed one demon through the head with his sword. With his knife, he spun 360 and buried it deep into the remaining demon's neck. He pulled out his weapons and sheathed his knife.

He looked over to see the large man, surrounded by dozens of demon corpses. He was still being assaulted by waves of demons coming from the woods. The man saw a demon jumping down from a branch, aiming to land his sword tip inside the stranger's head. The man pulled a small knife from his pouch and threw it directly into the forehead of the demon, causing it to fall. The man lept to the side of the stranger.

"You're still alive, eh?" The stranger said, eyeing his enemies.

"I'd ask you the same, swordsman."

"Well, I guess you could say I'm used to this." The stranger answered, panting and sweating. "What say we finish these guys?"

The pair swung and carved their way through dozens more demons. The stranger took many strikes, and seemed to be bleeding quite a bit, but the man was untouched, dodging quickly and striking swiftly. Eventually, the demons stopped coming, and the men rested against two trees.

The stranger looked surprised at the man's performance.

"You know, you might be the finest swordsman I've seen." He panted, out of breath.

The man eyed the stranger thoroughly, disregarding his statement. "How is it that you carry such a weapon? It is outrageously large."

The stranger closed his eyes and leaned against the tree. "I've gotten used to it. Guts, by the way. I'm Guts."

The man lit his pipe. "It was an honor to fight alongside such a skilled warrior, Guts. I am Strider."

"Strider, I like it," Guts said. "So, Strider, have you got any idea where we are?"

Strider was planning on asking him the same thing.

"Guts, it appears we are in the same predicament. We are lost in this forest, and it seems to be infested with these monstrous creatures," Strider said, poking one of the demon carcasses with a stick.

"It looks to me, warrior Guts..." Strider looked up to Guts. "It looks like we could help one another."


	2. Blades

Chapter 2: Blades

The two newfound allies set out to find where they were. Strider figured he was in the same forest, but had just gotten lost.

The two men both shared a similar trait: Not talking unless they have to. For most of their exploration, they remained silent, although Guts' silent was as quiet as he could be when his total weight with his gear almost doubled Strider's.

"So, you know this land well?" Guts inquired. "Maybe we'll find a landmark you recognize."

Strider looked disappointed in himself. He knew this land better than most, probably everyone. He knew every creek, hollow, and almost every bird's nest. For him to get lost... well, that hasn't happened in decades. He hasn't used a map since he was a young man, as they were all less accurate to his own memory, but now he wished he had one. He had a task to do, and this journey had to be quick. It was trusted to him, as he was the fastest traveler through this land, but now he was failing.

"I know this forest well, yes," Strider answered. "I've traveled it many times, over many years, and I have never lost my way. This may sound foolish, Guts, but I think there is some evil at work here."

The forest changing, as well as the strange Mordor-spawn that attacked them earlier, this is not natural. Strider was not prepared for the possibility of a large-scale attack like that. All he had was his sword, knife, and few throwing knives. He hadn't brought his bow, to save on weight. To Strider, his bow was almost as useful as his blade, but something told him that with his new companion, there wouldn't be much worry in combat. This gargantuan man had an impossible swing-speed for a sword so big. No, not a sword, more like a heap of raw iron. Strider, always preparing for possible outcomes, knew that if they crossed blades, Guts' would be unblockable. Strider would have to dodge, but no, Guts was fast, too. There would be no hope for Strider. As much as he hated the thought, he knew he would have to flee, unless he was able to utilize his surroundings to his advantage, like a clever coward.

"I know you want to hold it." Guts said, seemingly reading Strider's mind. He pulled the blade from it's strange tether. He held it forward for Strider, with only one hand.

Strider wanted to feel the weight of the weapon to gauge it's power. It was surely lighter than it appeared, as there was no man who could swing an object of such size. He reached his hands onto the handle, and Guts, released it's full weight onto Strider. The tip of the sword swung down with little resistance. Strider held on to the handle, keeping that end of the blade off the ground.

"Ahaha!" Guts laughed. "I've yet to find a man with enough strength to lift this sucker. At least you didn't drop it, or get crushed by it like most men."

Strider, was amazed at the weight of the weapon, but he wasn't done yet. He closed his eyes, straightened his back, and, very slowly, the tip of the sword left the dirt. The sword raised into the air slowly, to the amazement of Guts. Strider opened his eyes, a calm look on his face. The blade now standing straight up in his hands. He held it in front of his face, as he did with his own sword.

"Hit me," Guts commanded Strider. "Swing it at me."

Strider knew immediately what Guts was thinking. He would side-step from the strike, just to test Strider's might. He would swing his best, and the speed from the blade's fall would tell Guts exactly how strong he was. Well, he wasn't going to waste this opportunity. He swung the blade at Guts with all his might.

The sword fell, but not all the way. It stopped, right where Guts' head was. Strider looked up, knowing his new companion was now dead. What he saw, rather than a mutilated skull, was the black swordsman's gloved hand gripping the blade. He had caught the swing!

Guts tore the sword from Strider's hands, still using only one hand. He sheathed it.

"You're the strongest man I've met," he said as he turned away. "You've impressed and interested me, Strider. I wouldn't want to fight you."

The last sentence surprised Strider, but he kept his neutral face, as he always did. Neither man had seen each other's eyes yet, as they both wore deep hoods. Strider could only imagine what Guts' face would look like. His arms were fully covered in scars, as of he never cared about defense.

Strider knew just how powerful a swing from Guts would be. He remembered to never let himself get caught at the end of it. With this newfound knowledge in both their minds, they continued into the unknown forest.

Some hours later, they still hadn't found any recognizable scenery. Every few minutes, Strider would crouch down and inspect the path, never finding signs of tracks, ever. The men carried on past hills, streams, lakes and empty caves. Strider was now thoroughly agitated at is loss of direction.

"If we can reach a high point, uncovered by trees, then I may be able to tell our course," Strider informed Guts. The problem was, the forest was so thick that it was impossible to see any hills or valleys. All they could do was follow this trail, that stretched on into infinity. All the while, Strider wondered about Guts' stamina, He showed no signs of fatigue, despite their ceaseless journey for the past day.

The sun was going down. Guts pulled his sword.

"They're going to be back, Strider. Those demons. I'd recommend finding somewhere nice and dark to hide, unless you're ready to fight." Guts finally removed his hood. Strider didn't care about his face, only about the stream of blood pouring down one side of his neck. It came from the same spot Guts held onto tightly when the demons attacked the first time. Strider put the clues together.

"Your neck, it senses these... demons, you called them?"

This was the first time anyone figured that out without Guts having to tell them. Once again, Guts was impressed.

"Yeah, this mark on my neck tells when they're near. Helpful, but it hurts like hell."

Strider's hood remained over his face, which Guts questioned.

"How are you able to see in the night with a hood over your eyes?" Guts asked.

"There is always light to see, Guts," Strider said, looking into the sky through the trees. "Whether it be from the moon's reflection on the tip of a blade, or the sound of a rushing enemy. You see, in combat, sight is not only visual. It is a swordsman's duty to use all his senses to detect threats, this includes sound and smell. If you place your life on your eyes, they will betray you."

Guts put a hand over his missing eye. He remembered how he lost it, and it triggered memories of the worst day of his life. He become angry with Strider's philosophy.

"What a load of crap," Guts projected, rather loudly. He approached Strider's left side, remaining within an area obscured by Strider's hood.

"How's this for sight!?" Guts yelled as he threw a strong punch at Strider. Without looking, Strider brought his left hand up in an instant and caught the blow, stopping it dead. Guts was shocked. This man had just stopped his punch with one hand, without even looking! Strider was strong. Very strong. This was a fact Guts would make sure to remember. He pulled his hand away.

"Maybe there is something to this technique," Guts wondered out loud. "Maybe I'll try it out sometime."

The men readied their weapons, Guts standing casually, with one hand on the handle of his sword, it resting on his shoulder, and Strider, with both hands on the handle of his longsword, the flat of the blade an inch from his nose. They stood back to back, watching and listening carefully. They saw and heard nothing... until the peace was disrupted by the ground rumbling lightly.

Strider changed his stance, placing his left foot forward, and shifting his blade to the right of his head. The ground shook more, and it was apparent that it was caused by footsteps, as it shook, then stopped, then shook, then stopped again. Strider figured it must be a large troop marching in unison, or perhaps a battle elephant. But an elephant all the way on this side of the country? Unlikely.

"Oh, this must be a big one," Guts said in a joking tone. "These ones are always fun."

Strider disregarded Guts' comfort with the situation, and opted to focus on the battle at hand. The ground shook so hard, it caused both men to stumble.

"What is this beast? Another demon?" Strider asked Guts, both of them facing the same direction now.

"I'm not sure, but it's big and it's ugly, I'll tell you that."

The sound of trees falling over became present. Whatever creature was approaching, it was strong enough to push over trees with ease. Then, the sound stopped. The men didn't break their gaze.

The three trees closest to them were suddenly gripped by massive, hairy appendages. They ripped the trees straight out of the ground, and a 50-foot monster sprang forth from the gap. It shrieked a horrible sound. The monster had no reason to it's appearance: It was shaped like a mound, with a 30-ft base in diameter, thinning all the way to the stop, which had it's head. The creature had no eyes, and a small mouth, relatively speaking. It's body was covered in patches of hair and massive gash wounds that poured out oceans of black liquid.

Strider backed up, unsure of how to approach the situation. He had never seen a creature of such... mass. There was little hope.

"Guts!" He yelled. "We must fall back!"

Guts remained, his brow contorted into a pondering frown. Was Guts really sizing up this monster? He would be killed in an instant.

The monster roared and slammed a tree into the ground, Guts avoiding it casually. He jumped onto the beast's tree-weapon, and started running up it towards the monster's core. He readied his blade for a strike, while Strider watched on in awe. Guts was extremely skilled, despite his strange tactics.

As Guts was about to land a blow, a thin, black arm shot out from one of the gashes on the monster, catching Guts by surprise and smashing into him with incredible force. The impact launched him into the air, and he landed on his head behind Strider, knocking him out. Strider saw his ally fallen, and turned to see the monster approaching them. He had to think fast, but there was no possible attack that could damage this thing. All he could think of was to climb up the monster and stab it's head. Somehow. Strider ran to the monster, causing it to attack with one of it's trees. Strider dodged the attack and mirrored Guts idea. He climbed up the tree, but he knew the black arm was coming. He reacted to it's swing, chopping the dripping appendage, severing it from the monster. It turned to liquid and splashed to the ground.

Strider jumped onto the monster and gripped it's hair. The beast screeched and shook hard, causing Strider to hold on tightly. It would be near impossible to climb through all this shaking. Luckily, the monster eventually tired itself, and the shaking lessened, allowing Strider to scale up the beast. The climb was long, and eventually he was above the trees. He could see his target. He was about to reach the top when three black arms sprang forth from different wounds, all darting to him at once. Strider was able to strike one into liquid, but the two gripped his neck tight, and hoisted him up. He was brought in front of the monster's supposed face, most likely to have a good look at the man. The monster made a displeased sound, and the black arms tightened their grip around his neck, strangling him. The arms were both freezing cold and burning hot. Strider dropped his sword, and tried to pry the arms off him, to no avail. He could feel his consciousness slipping, as the dark sky became darker...

Suddenly, the monster made a horrible shriek, that seemed to wake up Strider slightly. It faced it's head away, and began trembling. The arms dropped Strider, and he fell several feet before grabbing onto more hair. The black arms covered the monster's face, and it recoiled in distress. Strider took this chance to climb up to the top again, without the monster even noticing his presence. It was too occupied with something that has caused it to panic. Strider drew his elven knife, and plunged it into the beast's skull. The blade sizzled as it passed into the monster, and the monster's black arms blasted into liquid. The same black liquid rocketed from the stab wound, covering Strider in the freezing and burning material. He couldn't grip onto the hair, as it was covered in the liquid and slippery. Strider fell, and tumbled down the mountain of a creature until he hit the hard ground, where he lay for several minutes before slipping into darkness.

The sun rose, and all was quiet. The forest sung in the breeze, allowing rays of sunlight to shine through the leaves and illuminate the ground. Strider was woken by something soft rubbing his face. It had a moisture to it, and he felt his face dampening. He opened his eyes to see a female deer licking his face. He turnt his head to stop the barrage, unsuccessfully. He put his hand on the deer's head and pat it, as if to say hello. He also became aware that he was leaning against an oak tree, with birds on the branches and squirrels running around the ground near him. He looked over to see a man sitting on a stump, shrouded by his cloak. He was staring back at Strider. There were no animals near him.

"They've been there for hours," Guts said. "They've been watching over you while you rested, like you're their master or something."

Strider looked around, noticing hares, frogs, and even a fox. He rose, and the animals dispersed at the sight of him healthy.

"What is with you, anyway," Guts asked. "I can't tell, but there's something different about you. Do you practice magic?"

"No magic, but an interesting history," Strider answered partly. He noticed his sheath was empty. He looked to Guts to ask about his sword, and saw it sailing towards him. He got it by the handle and inspected the blade. No damage,that's good. He sunk it into the sheath and felt better right away.

"How the hell did you take this thing down," Guts asked.

Strider noticed Guts was sitting by the monster's body, and remembered the trials of last night. He pondered for a moment, remembering that the monster was defeated because something caused it to lose focus.

"Nice necklace," Guts joked, pointing to an emblem hanging on a chain around Strider's neck. He always kept it tucked inside his chainmail, so it must've fallen out during the fight.

Then, Strider figured it out.

"Guts, the beast had me, and I was seconds from death," Strider explained. "Then, it seemed to have saw something that caused great distress, giving me ample time to land the final strike. Guts, I think this emblem fell out during the fight."

"And you think it caused the demon to freak out? Is that thing covered in elf dust or something?" Guts questioned.

"It was made by elves, yes." Strider held the unique-looking emblem that Arwen had given him. Could this be enchanted? To protect him?

"That's the answer, then." Guts responded. "Demons HATE elvish stuff."

"The final attack was delivered by this knife," Strider told, as he spotted the knife on the ground by the body. It had landed where he had. He picked it up and sheathed it. "This knife is also elvish, the demon was killed in one stab."

Guts rose from his seat. "Remember that, Strider. Demons are weak against anything elvish. Keep that in mind, it could save your life. Now come on, we've gotta find our way outta here."

The men checked their gear and set off down the path again, leaving the maggots to feast on the demon's corpse.


	3. Something Strange

Chapter 3: Something strange

The men have been travelling for the past 3 hours with no signs of exiting the forest. They had found a river to follow, but there was no path alongside it, forcing them to maneuver through sometimes dense greenery. Both of them knew that most rivers lead to people at one point or another, but so far all its led them to was an occasional curse from Guts.

Strider thought hard about the presence of demons in the forest. He's never seen anything like it. Then he remembered that the demons starting showing up when he met Guts, like they're following him. He was so focused on getting out of the forest that he had completely forgot to ask Guts about the strange creatures. He turned to Guts, but kept walking.

"Guts, why is it that you seem to attract these... demons," Strider questioned in his ever-present calm tone. "You have a marking on your neck that signifies nearby demons. Could it be that they are attracted to it?"

Guts was impressed again, having nobody ever figure out the brand's effect without him telling them.

"Right again, smart man," he mused, but he actually thought Strider was highly intelligent. "Luckily for us, demons don't tend to attack during the day, so we're safe for now. I'd like to ask what you know about elves, since you actually believe in them."

"Believe in elves? How couldn't you believe in elves? Only a child wouldn't know what an elf is," Strider said, confused that there were people out there who didn't "believe" in elves. Maybe a hobbit doesn't know about elves, but even that is a stretch.

"Well, Strider, where I'm from, hardly anyone believes in elves. I wish I never met one, 'cause all he does is buzz around my ear and yell at me about doing somethin' wrong, or "evil"."

Strider didn't understand. Buzzed?

"What do you mean, the elf buzzed around your ear?"

Guts looked at the river. "Yeah, you've seen them haven't you? The little bug things, with annoying voices that never shut up."

"It is apparent to me that we are speaking of different beings," Strider spoke, looking forward, mildly offended that Guts called elves "bugs". "The elves I speak of are the fairest creatures you'll ever lay eyes on. They have flawless skin, magnetic eyes, and some are even as tall as you or I. They are the farthest thing from a bug."

Guts chuckled. "Well, we're definitely not talking about the same thing, then."

The conversation ended there, as both were tired of talking. Both were tired of walking, too, but not physically. Then, they saw something that confused them both. In a clearing ahead, they saw a large, green humanoid creature, wearing a white tunic with a brown vest and brown pants. Beside him, a donkey. The strangest thing was that the humanoid seemed to be speaking to the donkey, and the donkey spoke back.

"What the hell is that thing?" Guts said to Strider, but Strider was already invisible in some shadow somewhere. Guts didn't care that he was looking at the one of the more unique scenes he's seen, he wanted answers. He went right up to the strange pair. All three stopped.

"Aye?" The beastly man said.

Even with Guts' impressive height, he was shorter than the green giant.

"Hmmm... you're no demon..." Guts concluded aloud. "What are you?"

The humanoid shifted his weight and folded his arms.

"I, mah dear boy, am an Ogre." He answered, with an accent.

Doesn't look anything like any ogre that Guts thought of.

"Ogre, what is your path? Where are you going?"

"Yer a nosey one, ain'tcha?" The ogre replied.

Then, the donkey piped in.

"Shrek, I don't like the looks of this guy, he's got a big piece of metal on his back. That can't be good for the spine, no sir..."

"Shut up for a minute, donkey," The ogre said quietly to the magic pet. The ogre looked back at Guts. "If ye must know, we're tryin' tah find mah swamp! But we're lost, and not sure where tuh go."

Guts had found others who were in the same situation as him. This was becoming very strange.

"Well, ogre and donkey, there's no swamp that way," Guts told them, pointing back to where he'd approached them from.

"You hear that, donkey? We're goin' this way." The ogre turned and walked off into the bushes, with the donkey following behind.

"Thanks, lad!" The ogre called out to Guts.

Guts turned to find Strider, having appeared out of nowhere.

"Well, that was interesting," Guts said, clearly not amused with his talk with the ogre. "They don't know where they are, either."

"Are they more creatures you're familiar with? They are of no race that I know, unless that mule is a normal donkey, but enchanted by some curse," Strider asked.

"Never seen anything like it," Guts told him.

Strider thought on it for several minutes as they sat near the river. Strange creatures appearing? A totally unfamiliar forest? These events were to big to be sorceries. Something else was at work here, and it was costing Strider precious time. He had to get to Bree, now.

Strider's heart was filled with newfound motivation, but it quickly dissipated as he remembered he was still lost deep in an unknown forest. He was deep inside his own mind when the sound of something heavy hitting the ground behind him snapped his attention back to reality. He turned to see a deer missing it's head, with Guts standing above it.

"I was hungry," Said Guts, expecting Strider to want an answer for this.

"Nice to see a man of culture," Strider joked as he inspected the gruesome sight for disease. "Looks clean enough," he determined.

The men built a fire from twigs, then transitioned to large branches. Strider found two sticks shaped like the letter "Y", and placed each standing up in the dirt on either side of the fire. He pierced morsels of deer through a pointed stick, and placed it on the "Y" sticks to cook.

The men feasted and gained their energy back. By this point, the sun was directly overhead, that was obvious, as they could see it between the leaves above them.

Once they had finished, Guts stomped out the fire, and they were off again. Only this time, they had made their last camp in this endless forest.

...

Strider took lead through the dense woods, and continued following the river. He saw sunlight through the trees ahead, which could only mean one thing...

The men burst into an open field of tall grass and bushes. Ahead, they could see hills that were free of trees, and even a mountain off in the distance. They were free!

Guts put a hand on his sword's handle, and breathed deep.

"About time! Lost in that damn forest for two whole days!" He exclaimed.

Strider was relieved to be out also, but he knew he was still lost. He had never seen the scenery that laid before him, so his best bet was to climb to the highest hill they could find.

Come," he said to Guts. "We've no time to lose."

They hurried up the hills, aiming for the tallest hill around. They spotted one that would suffice and climbed up. Strider surveyed the landscape before them, disappointed by the unfamiliarity, but pleased that there was no thick forest ahead, only far stretches of grass, flowers, rivers and hills. It was quite beautiful, but he there was no time to admire it. They had to move on.

Suddenly, the sky went dark. Guts and Strider looked up as if the sun had gone out. What they saw was harder to believe than anything either of them saw, ever. 500 feet above them soared a creature of impossible size. It's body was long and thin, comparatively. The shape was similar to that of a snake, but had massive wings that stretched out 50 feet on either side. On it's underside, which is all that the men could see, were two groups of massive inflated sacks of light-bluish color. Amazingly, the creature sailed overhead silently, appearing to glide on it's massive wings, rather than flap them.

Guts would usually say something witty at a new sight, but he was without words this time. Strider kept his usual face, but studied the behemoth as best he could. It was no creature of his world. To him, this proved beyond all doubt that he had somehow exited Middle-Earth.


	4. Task Uncovered

Chapter 4: Task Uncovered

The pair descended down the tall hill without saying a word. The sight of the monstrous beast left a firm impression on both of them, neither knowing quite how to process it other than to continue forward. The land that lay before was beautifully untouched by man; The grass was untrampled, no paths were present, and wildlife and plant life both blossomed. It was a sight that was, once again, precisely what Strider loved travelling for, but under the current circumstances he was unable to appreciate it. Guts couldn't care less.

Strider heard a voice, far away.

"Do you hear that?" He asked Guts.

Guts stopped and listened intently.

"I don't hear a damn thing but the bugs flyin' around my heads."

Strider knew his hearing was beyond the regular man's ability due to the nature of his journeys, requiring him to watch and listen for incomers constantly. He was unsurprised by Guts' answer, but was certain he heard a voice. He looked forward, into a small patch of trees and shrubbery.

"Behind there," he pointed.

"Dangerous, or what?" Guts asked, although it was clear he didn't care if it was dangerous or not.

"Keep your guard, for I am unsure," Strider said, straining his eyes into the trees. They moved to the trees and entered. A squirrel scurried up a tree at the sight of the two brooding figures. Strider passed along the plants without so much as bending a leaf, while Guts trampled countless plants without caring. Strider disliked Guts' brutishness, but made no comment. The two found the end of it, and checked the surroundings before exiting the cover of the trees.

"Well, would you look at that!" Guts exclaimed. "It's a camp, and a pretty rough lookin' one."

Before them lay a band of people and animals within a terrible looking campsite set along a river. Strider watched them carefully. It was the strangest group of people he had ever seen. Some had weapons and armor, some looked like regular townsfolk, and some were of races that he didn't recognize, like the ogre Guts talked to. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the sight. Guts helped him out with what to do next.

"Alright, I'm going down there, these guys gotta know somethin'," he said as he left the shadows of the trees. Strider decided they looked friendly enough, and followed Guts' lead.

At the sight of two armed, tall men, several members of the band ran off into tents to hide. This was no bandit group, Strider figured. Guts took a 360 look around, and decided this wasn't a mercenary band. He knew the look of those far too well.

"Excuse me!" A voice said behind them.

"Hmm?" Guts hummed, sounding disinterested of loud voices already.

They turned to see a man dressed in a blue robe with a gold trim, a deep purple cape and a torn red fabric tied around his waste. His hair was, oddly enough, purple, but not quite as deep as his cape. There was a glass in front of one of his eyes, and in his arms he carried several books. He was tall, but not as tall as Guts or Strider.

"Good day, sirs! You must have just arrived, yes?" he said in a friendly tone. "My, that's a big sword you have..."

Guts removed his hood. "Yeah, we just walked in. What's going on here?"

"Why, just a collection of people who have all mysteriously appeared in an unfamiliar environment, of course! Nothing so special," the purple-haired man said with a chuckle. Neither Guts nor Strider joined in his humor.

"Ehhh..." his laughter trailed off into awkwardness. "Um, anyway, I assume you two are lost as well?"

"That is correct," Strider confirmed. "You are a wizard?"

The man made a surprised expression.

"Why, yes I am! You're very inquisitive, sir!" The wizard beamed, clearly proud of himself. Guts realized that Strider was an even better judge of character than he thought.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the wizard said with a bow. "I am Canas, student of the Dark Arts."

Strider had never heard of the "Dark Arts", but figured it had to do with some forbidden sorcery. He decided now was not the time to ask. He removed his hood for the first time in several days, revealing to both Canas and Guts a head of hair of considerable length, along with a serious but honorable face, and a stubble. He was rugged, but attractive.

"You never told me you were pretty!" Guts mocked.

"Canas, what do you know about our situation? Are all these people lost, too?" Strider asked.

Canas looked to his books. "I've been doing all the research I can with the materials I happened to have when I was... transported is the word, I suppose? When I was transported here, all I had were these few books on ancient shamanism. So far, I haven't found anything that relates to our problem."

Suddenly, Canas quickly looked up at Guts.

"You..." he said as he stepped back. "There's something evil about you... horrible, terrible evil..."

Guts looked away, putting a hand over his brand.

Canas stepped forward. "I can sense it. You're connected to the Dark Arts, but not as a student, like me. No, the Dark is infused within you, and it is giving off a powerful aura. Who are you!?"

Guts turned away further. "Don't ask me anything..." Guts said dejectedly. "I'm not a threat, so don't ask me about it."

Strider eyed Guts carefully. He knew something was off about him. Everywhere he went, nature ran from him, or was destroyed by him. There was indeed something unnatural with this man.

Canas turned to Strider.

"If you travel with this man, be careful. He's radiating the powerful force of darkness that shamans today are not allowed to explore."

"I understand," Strider replied. "Canas, do you have any theory on a way back to our lands? If it is like you say, transported, then there must be a way back. I've got to return as fast as is possible."

Canas looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I do not know. no one else in the camp has any lead yet, either."

Guts came back over, brutish as ever.

"Then can you at least explain to us what the hell that thing in the sky was?! You must've saw it, it blocked out the damn sun."

"Unfortunately, we're as lost as you are on that. We saw it pass overhead earlier, but no one could explain it. Most of the people here ran for cover instead of looking at it."

Strider was annoyed at their lack of progress. At this rate, he won't even get to Bree within this week. Then, he saw a figure approaching from behind Canas. Canas turned, and they all looked at the person. It was a boy, no older than 19 years, wearing a tribal tunic and a band across his hair. At his side was a sword in it's sheath.

He spoke to them.

"That creature... itself and I share a fate. It is connected to me, and an ancient evil." The boy explained. "I was tasked with defeating several of them to seal an ancient demon, and came upon this land during my pursuit of the beast. I believe the demon has cursed our world, causing it to shift to another reality."

The three men listened intently. The boy continued.

"It is my theory that this beast must be felled to return our world to normal."

"This evil you speak of," Strider said. "Do you speak of Sauron?"

The boy told him he had never heard of such a name. This was something different.

"I am certain that our world will be corrected with the beast slain. It must."

Strider was skeptical.

"Boy, if what you speak it true, and the beast is connected to why we are here, I thank you for informing us. However, there is no way we could slay such a beast with our current means."

"The mans right, kid," Guts butted in. "No way in hell we could bring it down. Also, I don't believe some giant worm in the sky would help us in any way, we'd just be wasting our time."

"What I say is true! I have slain several before, and was filled with their spirit. I felt the link to the demon, and I can feel him weakening. Perhaps he sent us all to another realm as a final effort to be rid of me."

Strider thought on it. He heard sincerity in the boy's words, but couldn't understand how a beast from a mythical land was the cause of all this confusion. This was his only lead, however, and wouldn't let it slip away. Strider had one final question that would determine his course.

"The beast was travelling south at an incredible speed. The fastest hawk in the land would have difficulty keeping up. How do you expect us to not only catch up, but locate it's position as well?"

The boy drew his sword. He raised it above his head, and the sun reflected a beam of golden light across the land.

"This blade will tell us the direction. As for keeping it's pace, I know that it must rest for several days between flights. It will land soon, and most likely burrow deep into the ground. We will find it resting, then rouse it, allowing me to climb on and begin the attack."

"In the air?" Guts laughed. "You must be crazy."

The boy and Strider looked dead serious.

"What is your name, boy," Strider asked him.

"I am called Wander, of the nomad tribes."

"Wander, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am called Strider, and this is Guts, my companion."

Strider turned to the expansive field where the beam of light had shown them.

"Tomorrow," he spoke with confidence. "We begin our quest."

...

The night was spent resting for all of them. Canas had provided them with a tent to stay in, as well as clean water and bread. With their hunger sated, the three companions went to bed. Wander fell asleep immediately, while Guts and Strider both lay awake. Strider tried not to think about his failure to reach Bree in time. He had a new quest that required his focus, as much as he hated having to switch plans. He eventually fell asleep, only to be tormented by nightmares of a flaming eye.

Guts could not sleep. He rose and exited the tent, walking into a world of darkness and stars. He walked barefoot into the field. It was cold, wet. He stared into the stars. Why weren't demons attacking? This was the first night in ages without an attack. He walked forward, leaving the camp behind him. A cloud descended from the heavens and came to him. He took a good look, and laid upon it. The cloud rose and took him to the sky. He lay on his back, gazing straight up. The stars zoomed by at such a speed that they blurred. He knew he was going far, far away, far from the pain of existence. He thanked the cloud in his head, appreciating it's hard work. He felt the wind racing through his aching hands. How long had he butchered his hands gripping onto steel? Why did he grip steel? What was his name? All thought left him, and he stared at the moon. The moon was going to take him away, to a place where he would be free of pain. What caused him pain? Was it his own actions? The actions of another? His soul left his body, and he drifted among the stars, in a place with no evil. He saw faces, but they had no visual appearance. Just as he was, without physical form, he felt the faces present, and they came to him. He knew them, but he knew nothing. He saw the earth far below, and it called to him. It was time to come back. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay here, with the souls he knew. They pushed him towards the earth. He felt betrayed. Why would they cast him down back into the hellish world? They knew too much. They knew what was needed for the world. It was time for him to return. He saw his body, lifeless on a cloud. He filled into his body, but had no control. He knew where he was going. It was time for him to return.

Guts awoke and saw the sun creeping in the tent. He was the first of the three to wake. He saw Strider and Wander sleeping, silent as the night. Upon Striders chest was his elven amulet, one hand clutching it tightly. Guts put his face in his hand and weeped silently.


	5. Ranger's Wit

Chapter 5: Ranger's Wit

The trio had a breakfast spit-roasted hares and water. While they sat, they observed the people around them. Many of them sat alone, but just as many spoke with others. It was clear that almost no one knew each other

"You guys are going to fix this mess?" A bearded man said , walking to them. He was of hefty weight, and smoked on a pipe. "Word around the camp is that you three are going out to find that giant... thing, and bring it down. Good luck, by the way, 'cuz no ones gonna be able to even get near it."

Canas must have told everyone, probably to give them some hope. Most of the people stranded here looked hopeless.

"That is correct, sir," Strider confirmed. "But there will be no failure, so you needn't concern yourself. As for a solution to our problem, we will have to wait and see, for we are not certain the beast's death will return us home."

"Hmpf, I wish you all the best, then," the man said while he turned to walk away. Now that the trio knew that people knew about their plan, they noticed many people looking at them like they were their only hope. The was even a "You guys can do it!" from the crowd. The pressure to succeed once again set in on Strider. Why was his life always like this? His line of work made some regard him as a hero, but at the cost of the chance of letting those people down. The pressure was lifted by a little girl coming up to them. She had a bow that was much too big for her, with a quiver and several arrows.

"Excuse me?" She said quietly. "You three are going to fight that monster?"

Wander wasn't paying attention, he was focusing on something deep in his mind. Guts didn't care about anything. Only Strider paid mind to the child.

"Yes, we are. We're going to get everyone back home. Are you alone?"

"I got lost in the woods, and I couldn't find my way back." She told him. "I've been with a nice lady here at camp though, so I'll be okay. You three are going to have a hard time with your mission, though, so I thought I'd help as best I can."

She held up the bow and quiver, but it was too heavy for her.

"One of you can take this, it's my father's, but he isn't here right now. I'm sure one of you can use it!"

Guts looked over. "Nice stick," he said. Strider ignored him, and placed a hand on the bow.

"This is a fine piece," he told her. "Did your father use this often?"

Talking about her dad made her seem to light up a little, just as Strider had expected it would.

"This was his favorite! He said it shot the straightest and fastest, so he didn't like to use it very much, to try to keep it in good shape."

"Do you think he would like that his daughter is giving his prized bow to a stranger?" He said with a smile. The girl liked him.

"I'm sure he won't mind! You're going to use it to save us all, anyway. He'd probably give it to you, too."

Strider took the bow into his hands. He tested the draw weight, and checked angles and notches. This was a very fine piece indeed. Having a bow in his hands once again made him realize how much he missed having his. He slung the bow over his back, along with the quiver, and stood. He knelt down to the girl's height.

"What is your name?"

"Theda," she answered.

"Theda, we will meet again, and when we do, I will return this bow. You have my word, and I honor it with my life."

The girl hugged him, and he put a hand on her back.

"Come back safe, okay?" she told the three.

Guts and Wander rose, not saying anything. Strider gave the girl a wink, and stood. He called to Canas, who was helping everyone he could with something or other. Canas came over.

"We are departing now. If we are able to, we will return to this spot when we are done. Make sure you do not leave, or if you do, leave a trail for us to follow."

Canas understood the directions. "Well, you must realize that you may not ever return."

Strider knew the risk, and he was also putting all his faith in a young stranger he just met yesterday, but this was his only lead, and this had to be fixed. If the beast wasn't the answer, then all hope for his role in Middle-Earth was lost.

"Yes, Canas, we may not return. But we will do what we can, or else we will all be lost here longer."

Canas put a hand on Strider's shoulder. "I wish you the best, all of you. You're braver than the rest here. Safe travels, men."

Strider noticed a crowd forming behind Canas. Many of them began cheering.

"Yeah! You can do it!"

"Show that monster how it's done!"

"We know you can do it!"

"Don't give up!"

"TORYAH!"

The crowd of people cheered for their success. Guts turned away and started walking. Wander gave a wave, then followed. Strider faced the crowd.

"We will do what we can, but do not expect us to succeed. This is a grave task, one we may perish in, and it may not even be the solution. You all must work hard to find a way back home. That said, we will also do our best, and hopefully end this confusion. Farewell!"

The crowd cheered as he turned away to catch up to his companions. All their hopes had been riding on them, but now they saw the truth in his words. They had to begin working for themselves, also.

The last they saw of their heroes was Strider's cloak flowing behind him, before he disappeared behind a hill.

...

Wander rose his sword to the sky, creating a golden beam from the tip. It shone directly forward. They were going the right way.

"Wander, you must tell us more about why you think this will send us back," Strider said without looking at him.

"There was a forbidden land of immeasurable power. The land was sealed by a magical ward to prevent anything from going in, and anything from going out. Some days ago, I was able to breach the ward, and travel to the temple at the center of the land. My quest was to... it isn't important to share. What is important is that I've seen the capabilities of the beasts. They have an ancient demon within them, and it has the power to create and destroy. A friendly voice has guided me along this path thus far, and informed me that the demon may have incomprehensible tactics. This is one of those tactics, I believe."

Strider listened carefully, then rebutted.

"If this demon caused this in order to send you to another realm, then why would it also come? That beast is here with us. Would it not have sent you away, and stayed where it was?"

Wander thought about it. "There are many possibilities, and we have little information to prove anything. This is the only explanation I can think of."

Strider understood the boy's perspective. He was fighting an ancient evil when the shift occurred, so it made sense to him that it would try anything to be rid of it's only assailant. On the other hand, Strider was also combating an ancient evil, as well. Could Sauron be behind this? There were far too many possibilities, and they had to make a move. If Wander was wrong, they would continue until they found the truth.

The trio walked through several fields, over many hills, and past many trees. Every so often, Wander would shine the blade in the sun.

"So what's up with that sword? Magic, or somethin'?" Guts asked Wander.

Wander ran his hand across the flat of the blade.

"It was given to me by a friend," he said after a long pause. Guts decided he was satisfied. His own sword held magical properties as well, though he knew it was of a different form.

The companions came to a deep valley, with a river at the bottom, and dense forest on either side. Strider took a look and wished he had a boat. He looked at Guts.

"You don't suppose we could use that thing you call a sword for a boat, do you?" He laughed.

Guts returned with a smirk, acknowledging how ridiculous his sword was. It was almost as tall as him, and there were few things taller than him. Only demons and ceilings, some of them.

"We're going to travel through the woods on the right, it appears less full," Strider decided. There were no objections from his partners. Together, they navigated down the valley, and veered to the right.

Walking into the forest, Strider was relieved to see the forest here was less thick than he thought. They would have little trouble passing through, but the sun couldn't shine in, making Wander's blade unable to guide them. They would have to pass through as quickly as they could. There was no telling if the beast would change course, and cause them to travel in the wrong direction.

"Draw your swords," Guts commanded out of nowhere. Strider and Wander did as told, scanning their surroundings for a threat.

"What is it Guts? What do you see?" Strider shouted to Guts, before noticing a dark stream of blood pouring from his brand.

"They've found us!" Strider yelled. "Quickly! Backs together!"

They stepped back into each other, facing three different directions. They waited for their foes to appear from the dark woods.

They appeared on Wander's side. Tall, disfigured, armed orcs. They looked like failed products of Sauron's army. There were over fifty of them, and they spread out to surround the three swordsmen.

"These are no orcs I've seen..." Strider wondered aloud. "Are these from your land, Guts?"

"I've never heard of an orc, but these things are definitely demons."

Strider was confused. Orcs being demons? There was something off about these orcs, they looked... corrupted. Even more so than usual. Perhaps they were conjoined with demons?

Strider rose his sword to the center of his face. He prepared his stance.

"Are you prepared?" He asked the others. Wander said nothing. Guts reacted with a chuckle, like he couldn't care less. The orcs stood, waving their weapons and making loud grunts and roars.

"Focus on your sword, it is your only hope here."

The demon-orcs began approaching.

"Go!" Strider yelled. The trio burst into the crowd at three different points. Guts cleaved five orcs in one swing. Strider parried a thrusting spear and severed the orc's arm. Wander ran through the crowd, passed behind them, and climbed a tree. Atop a branch, he perched himself, and a bow appeared in his hands, an arrow at the ready. The orcs stared up at him, some moving to begin chopping the tree. Wander let several arrows fly, each finding their mark.

"Strider!" Guts called amid ten orc corpses. "The amulet!"

Strider had completely forgot that his elven amulet repelled demons. If it worked before, it could work now. He grabbed it, pulling it out from his chainmail, and held it high. The orcs gave a slight murmur, then continued their assault.

"It failed!" Strider called to Guts.

"Damn!" Guts exclaimed. "Guess we gotta do this the normal way!"

His sword crashed through another two, felling them instantly. Strider dodged and parried multiple attacks at once, following up with lightning-fast counterstrikes. He saw several orcs falling to the ground, dead, with arrows in their heads. He looked up to see Wander in a tree, firing precise shots. He was impressed.

The orcs' numbers were depleting rapidly. Only ten remained, and they grouped up for an attack on Guts. They surrounded him, lunging in unison. Strider and Wander could only watch as a rain of steel rushed down on Guts. Guts, of course, planned this bait, and used their formation against them. He held his blade close, and spun in a 360, sending orc torsos flying. Not a hit landed upon him. He walked over the mound of corpses.

"Well! They didn't put up much a fight, did they?" He said, almost sounding disappointed.

"There was something with these orcs. They are not regular Mordor-spawn. Their reflexes and strategies were nearly non-existent."

An arrow zipped past the two men and landed in the head of an orc.

"That one wasn't dead," Wander said, whilst dropping from his branch. "It moved."

Looking at the ground, Strider noticed others that still moved. Then, they all began to move! The orcs grabbed their weapons, and rose to their feet, even the ones missing this lower halves and heads.

"These orcs... they are unkillable!" Strider determined. There was no way they would be able to rise with the damage they've taken, were they normal orcs.

"Persistent bastards, aren't they?" Guts muttered.

The orcs, rather than going after the swordsmen, gathered together in a pile. The three watched in disbelief as the orcs began to fuse together, forming a giant, fleshy sphere. Blades stuck out of the sphere at all sides. Once it reached it's final height, it began rolling towards the three with great speed. Strider and Wander rolled to either sides, but Guts went for a strike. He brought his greatsword down on the center of the sphere, driving the blade deep into it. Blood splashed onto his entire body. Turning his hips, he ripped the blade out of the mass, leaving a sizable chasm. The sphere stood still for a moment, before reforming and correcting the damage. It had healed itself!

"Oh hell..." Guts said, quickly realizing that they would not be able to destroy this monster. "RUN!"

The three ran into a thick part of the woods. There would be no way the mass could follow them through the tight treeline. Elven items failed, swords failed, there was no stopping it. All they could do was hope to lose it, but Strider and Guts both knew that the brand would make it easy to follow them.

They ran for several minutes, then slowed to a jog. They crossed many miles this way, and lost little strength. Whenever Strider traveled with anybody, they always had difficulty keeping pace with him, but these companions had a seemingly limitless energy supply. This was the company he needed on this quest.

"Alright, there's no chance it can follow us through that," Guts said, looking back to the thick forest. They had come into a lighter area, indicating the exit nearby.

"Come," Strider instructed. "We are almost out. We need the sun."

Walking between the trees was easy here, each was growing 5-ft away from one another. The ground was covered in pines and sticks that made the area feel rather soft.

"Those creatures, you said you knew them?" Wander questioned Strider. Strider wasn't sure how two people he met didn't know about orcs. They were the biggest threat in Middle-Earth! For two swordsmen to not know about them...

"Yes, they come from a land not far from my own. They are bred for one purpose: To destroy the world of man. For you both to have never heard of them..."

Guts shot an eye at Strider.

"For you to never have heard of them, along with me not knowing anything about where you have come from, by this I speak of Guts' demons, and your mythical beasts of legend. All this seems to exist outside of one reality, but many conjoined. Believe me if you will, but I don't think we are from different lands. I believe we come from different worlds."

Guts didn't seem too surprised at Strider's guess. He was well accustomed to other-worldly events, and, truth be told, he wasn't surprised at anything that had happened yet. Wander saw truth in Strider's theory, but there was no way to prove anything. Perhaps once they had completed their quest, they would find an explanation, but for now, they had to move on.

They came into the beaming sunlight overhead. There was a field that stretched far, with a river running quietly beside it. Wander wasted no time, and held his sword high. The beam pointed slightly to the left. This was good news.

"Strider, your sense of direction is impressive," Wander pointed out. "We've only slighty veered off course, unless the beast altered it's path. Regardless, it should be landing soon, if it hasn't already. I feel our battle is approaching."

Strider agreed. He looked to Guts, whose neck had stopped bleeding. They had escaped the demons, for now.

The companions pressed forward, and before long they saw the land in front of them drying out. The grass began to thin and color, as well as appear absent in several patches. Soon, there was little grass at all, only dry dirt. A hill lay in their way, forcing them to scale it. Atop the sizable hill, they saw the landscape they would be entering next, and none of them were pleased at the sight.

They descended down the hill, and walked into an endless desert.


	6. Agent of Darkness

Chapter 6: Agent of Darkness

High in the tower of Orthanc, Saruman poured over some ancient scrolls and books. The dimly lit circular room stretched high above, creating a seemingly endless abyss that reached into the night sky.

"In all my years, I've never seen such power..." Saruman said to a figure obscured by deep shadow. "You have converged the many dimensions that exist in this plane into one another, then divided them into separate dimensions again, essentially creating all new worlds, each with a mix of different elements from other worlds. This is the most remarkable event in the history of sorcery."

The figure remained motionless. "You seem to understand, Saruman the White. Have I not proven myself beyond all doubt?"

Saruman looked outside a window of Orthanc, seeing a mish-mash of land and buildings from other worlds. Fangorn had completely disappeared and was replaced with a green field that was far too bright for this area. The mountains in the distance were visibly altered, some peaks being taller than they were, some shorter. Even some of Isengard was missing.

"You have proven yourself beyond comprehension, master," Saruman bowed. "I have no choice but to obey your commands."

"Very good, Saruman. Now, it is time to put my plan into action. Begin assembling the greatest army you can muster. I will rejoin you in a week's time, after I have completed some tasks in the other dimensions."

"Tasks?" Saruman asked.

"Yes, I've some matters to take care of. Firstly, I will see how the dispersion has affected the other worlds, in a manner of speaking. To be precise, I want to see who and what was sent where."

The figure moved forward and handed Saruman a spherical object.

"If you must contact me, use this. Do not let it leave your person."

Saruman understood. He pocketed the object.

"Master, do you know what world we are in currently? Do we exist in the same dimension as the ones we aim to defeat?"

"The figure turned and walked to the door.

"Yes, I made sure we are in the correct world. They are here, and surely weakened by the dispersion. In fact, all of Middle-Earth will be weakened immensely. Do not worry yourself, Saruman. Tend to your duty, as I will to mine, and you will find yourself in a position of great power."

The figure exited the door. He turned and looked directly at Saruman.

"In one week, we will march on Barad-Dur."


	7. Counted Shadows

Chapter 7: Counted Shadows

Strider, Guts and Wander strode through a harsh landscape of sand and dunes. There were no shadows for several miles in all direction. Directly ahead, a massive wall of a mountain range loomed over the sand sea. Wander's blade shone directly to it.

Strider and Guts wore their hoods to block the piercing sun. Wander had no such clothing, but seemed unaffected by the heat. Perhaps he was used to it, he did say he was from a nomadic tribe, after all.

The trio stopped atop a hill. Wander pointed forward.

"The light is becoming clear, the beast resides somewhere along that mountain. Our battle is at hand."

Strider counted the arrows in his quiver. Eight, all flawless. Not enough for him, though, he preferred to carry at least double that. He turned to Wander.

"An enchanted bow, yes?"

Wander looked back at him, but said nothing.

"Back in the forest, with the orcs, you pulled a bow from the air, and shot arrows from no quiver. Your bow is magical."

"I cannot answer you, Strider, as I do not know the properties of my gear myself. This "Magic" you speak of may be the reason, maybe not. I've grown accustomed to it, but never understood it."

Wander sheathed his sword and the boww appeared in his hands.

"I am thankful for it," he said.

Guts piped up.

"Yeah, well I think it's weird. And believe me, when I find something weird that can help me, I'll use it."

"Me as well," Strider told. "I found Guts, and he is strange, so I am using him." He said with a laugh.

"You sonuva bitch..." Guts said with a grin. Strider was the only one to make him feel humorous in far too long. It was an emotion Guts had forgotten about.

"Come, we are almost there," Strider led.

...

Thirty minutes later, the party stopped at a peculiar sight. It appeared to be a building of some kind, but submerged in waves of sand. Pillars stuck 10 feet out of the sand, but it looked like they were more like 40 feet tall. A domed-building rested at the center of the pillars, no doubt being the main entrance to some ancient palace forgotten by time.

"This look familiar to you Strider?" Guts asked him.

"I've never come across architecture of this form before. I've also never seen a desert like this before."

"Where I come from," Wander thought aloud. "there are deserts with ancient stones, but this... this is not it. The engravings along the pillars is foreign to me."

The three were stumped, but intrigued all the same.

"What should we do?" Guts asked. "If we stay here to check this old stuff out, that monster will just get farther and farther away. We should keep after it."

Wander rose his blade to check the direction of the beast.

"It has stopped by those mountains. It will rest for several days, so there is no need to rush."

Wander looked to the sky. The sun was beginning to set on the dry wasteland.

"It would be unwise to attack the colossus during the night, anyway. I think we should explore these ruins, then rest for the night."

Strider was already poking around the site, trying to find a way in.

"I am with Wander. We must rest tonight, then strike when the sun rises. We know not how long the fight will last, so we'll need all the daylight we can get."

"Alright then," Guts sighed, disappointed he didn't get to swing his sword yet. "Are we gonna try to break into this place?"

"That is my intention, yes," Strider responded. "However, it seems all the entrances are deep under the sand. It may be impossible to..."

Strider was interrupted by a loud smash behind him, followed by the sound of tumbling stones. He turned to see Guts, sword in hand, a massive hole in the dome of the center building. "There ya go, boys."

The three huddled around the hole and peered down. The remaining sunlight lit a beam through the hole that barely reached the bottom, which was 40 feet below them. This building was very, very tall.

"It's like an old monastary, and I hate those," Guts whined.

"It's far too dark in there," Strider determined. He produced a torch from his bag. "We need something to light this." He looked around, but all there was was sand and stone. Then, he had an idea.

"Wander, lift your blade. Shine the light."

Wander did as told, the light shone in a concentrated beam towards the mountains.

"Were you thinking of using this to light the way?" Wander asked. "There would be no sunlight down there."

Strider walked over and held the torch in front of the beam. In seconds, the torch began to smoke.

"Ah! Pretty clever, smart man," Guts chuckled.

The torch burst into flame just as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. That was close, he thought. He held the torch over the hole, showing a pillar beside the entrance. It looked thin enough to slide down.

"I will descend down this pillar and try to find anything of interest. There may be answers down here," Strider explained. "You two stay up here and set up a place to sleep. If I need anything, I'll call."

The two nodded. Strider bit placed the torch in his mouth, and hugged the pillar tightly. He loosened his grip slightly, causing him to descend into the darkness.

Once safely on the bottom, he looked to the ceiling. The hole was very far up, and he could not see Guts or Wander.

"I've made it!" he called.

"Alright, don't get lost!" Guts called back.

Strider checked his surroundings. He was in a beautifully decorated... something. It may have been a throne room, or an antechamber, but it was hard to tell at the moment. The walls were covered in an unknown text. It looked as though it was written hastily. There were several pillar bases along the floor, with their bodies laying in pieces nearby. The floor was cracked and covered in a thin layer of sand. Strider took it all in, but found there was nothing in this room. All the doorways around him were caved in from debris capsizing inward. All except one, which stood untouched. Behind it lay a wall of darkness. Strider entered in, finding a ruined stone hallway with arched doorways along either side. He briefly looked inside each room as he passed, finding them all empty. It was possible that this palace had been raided some time ago, he thought.

Some cracked under Strider's step. He looked down to see a crushed skull underneathe his boot. Finally, he thought, something that fits this setting. He raised the torch to illuminate further down the hall, revealing another dead man ahead. This one had a complete skeleton. Perhaps this is the remnants of a battle fought in these halls long ago? Perhaps a struggle for power brought this palace to ruin? Nothing was clear yet. Strider pressed forward.

He came to a staircase that lead down into the darkness. Even with the torch, Strider could not see the bottom. Regardless, he had to press on, or return to the surface, and he wasn't yet satisfied with his findings. He continued down the stairs for what felt like minutes. No, it was minutes. It was bringing him deep, deep under the surface. Every so often he would have to step over a skeleton that looked like it died trying to climb up the stairs, their arms often outstretched upwards. What happened here? Why were so many skeletons strewn about? Something terrible must have happened here decades ago, and Strider hoped he would be able to find some answers. He followed down the stairs silently, as if to not disturb the dead. Finally, a floor came into view. He reached the bottom and paused. The subtle sifting of sand could be heard around the room. He raised the torch, but there were no walls to see, not even the ceiling was visible. Strider had stumbled into an enormous room. He walked forward, occasionally passing a thick pillar that stretched up into the void. Then, he heard a familiar crunch. He looked at his feet to see another crushed bone, but was met with the sight of more skeletons around him. And more. And even more. Hundreds of skeletons lay lifeless along the stone floor, some missing arms, legs, skulls, everything.

Strider heard a loud crunch ahead of him. The sound of bones being utterly crushed underneath a great weight. He instinctively threw the torch hard in the direction of the noise and darted behind a pillar. He watched the torch roll to a stop amidst many skeletons. He watched it burn in the darkness. Then, heavy footsteps. Slow, heavy footsteps, that shattered the silence. Each step shook the ground and caused sand to fall from the abyss above. He watched the fire closely, patiently. He knew whoever was down here with him would see the light and want to investigate. Then, a massive hand reached into view, grabbing the torch and lifting it high. The torch revealed a man of incredible size, far outsizing Guts. He had black hair, that stood in spikes. Around his neck, a fur cape made from some great animal. He wore a leather armor that covered his chest only, his arms and shoulders left unprotected. His nose was a tad flattened (clearly from combat), and his eyes were pupil-less red orbs. He inspected the torch in front of his face. He then looked around and behind himself.

"Show yourself, coward!" he roared into the darkness. No response from Strider. "Hmmpf!" he huffed, disappointed. The man-beast turned and walked away from Strider, crushing countless bones as he went. Strider followed like a shadow. He took note of the massive horse-slayer on the man's back. It reminded him of Guts' ridiculous blade, but not nearly as big.

Off into the darkness ahead of the man appeared a source of light suspended 4 feet in the air. It gave off a faint blue glow, but in the darkness it shone brilliantly. Strider wondered to himself. What could that light be? It must be what the man is after.

The beastly man stepped up to the light, towering above it. He paused to look for a moment, and Strider thought he heard something deep below them. The man reached down and grabbed the light, revealing it to be a blue, shining sphere. The light it produced outshined the torch, illuminating the nearby pillars in a blue glow. Strider felt himself being pulled towards the object, enticed. The man also seemed entranced by it's light, staring down at it for some time. He eventually broke his gaze and stuck the object in a bag around his waist. The light shone through the bag still.

The man began to walk to the staircase. Strider had been thinking about what he should do: Try to escape silently, or attempt to take the orb, by force if neccessary. The orb must have some kind of power, that it left a room full of hundreds of ancient bodies, and only itself remained. These people could have died trying to take the orb... or trying to escape it. Strider knew the orb must have some power, maybe even the power to reverse the world's transformation. He knew he couldn't pass this opportunity. He stepped out into the darkness behind behind the man.

"Hold," he commanded.

The man turned around very slowly. The torch revealed his face hadn't changed, even though there was a possible threat here. This man must have been fearless.

"Yes?" he answered. Strider was taken back from the man's calmness.

"What is your purpose here, bladesman," Strider asked while slowly sidestepping around the man.

The man laughed.

"You have some kind of deathwish?" His voice was incredibly deep. "Don't you know who I am? It doesn't matter to you what I am doing here, because as soon as I see you, you're dead."

Strider was a master of being unseen, but he could tell the orb was too powerful to run and hide now. He emerged into the torch's light. He was behind the man now, blocking the path to the stairs, hood still drawn. The orb would be his.

"Well," Strider taunted. "Here I am."


	8. Terror Night

Chapter 8: Terror Night

The man-beast exhaled smoke from his nose. Or was it steam? Either spelled bad news for Strider, but he wasn't easily deterred, not even by the massive man taking his giant sword into his hand. Still, his face was calm and still as a puddle.

"Aren't you brave?" he chirped. He took one step forward, causing the ground to shake once again.

"You don't even have your weapon drawn, foolish man. Draw your sword, and you will at least die honorably."

Strider remained unmoved, though he exposed the handle and pommel of his blade from behind his cloak.

"Give me the orb," he commanded.

The man laughed in a booming voice that shot off into the darkness above them.

"I am afraid that will not happen, mortal. I've been tasked to retrieve this artifact at all costs, failure is not an option. My master is not a man to cross, or be kept waiting. You will step aside, or die."

Strider didn't move. The large man grunted, but didn't sound displeased.

"Normally, I would graciously accept a challenge from a swordsman, but right now I am in a hurry. Still, I will retain my honor, and give you one last chance to draw your sword, or stand aside."

No one spoke for several moments. The beastly man saw Strider's jaw and mouth from under his hood, and saw it was as neutral and motionless as could be. Strider would not make a move.

"So be it!" the man yelled as he lifted his horseslayer upwards. He took a massive step forward and smashed it down as hard as he could. The ground shattered and cracked under the force of the impact, but when he looked, there was no cloaked man. He had disappeared into the expansive darkness again.

"How can you fight me..." Strider said from behind the man. The man spun around to face Strider, but saw only more darkness.

"...if you can't see me." Strider spoke, this time from behind the man again. The man-beast spun in circles, starting to breathe heavier as he became agitated.

"Show yourself, coward! Face me!"

Then, a slight pain erupted from the man's right leg. He looked to down to inspect it, finding an arrow stuck deep within him. He growled, ripping the arrow out of himself.

"You won't show yourself? Then I'll join you in the darkness!" the man declared as he threw the torch as far as he could in a random direction. He watched it bounce away, lighting the area around it as it rolled.

"Aha! Evenly matched, coward!" he boomed, as another sharp pain rose in his shoulder. Another arrow! But how could the cloaked man see?

Strider silently paced around the roaring beast, firing arrows at him. This fool doesn't realize the orb's glow is giving his position away, Strider thought. As soon as he thought this, the man thought of it, too.

"This cursed orb! It's shine!"

Another arrow hit it's mark. The beast bellowed in rage, and Strider knew this fight was his. Just then, the man dropped his horseslayer. Strider halted his arrows to see what the man was doing, and saw him beginning to convulse violently.

"Well done, swordsman..." he complimented. "It has been long since I've met a mortal who could damage me..."

Mortal?

The man's body began to morph erratically. What was happening to him?

"I haven't met such a worthy opponent since... that man. Forget the orb! I must fight you, swordsman!"

With that declaration the man's body began to grow, until it was twenty feet tall and covered in fur. His clothes simply tore away and fluttered to the ground, including the sack with the orb. Two sharp horns grew from his forehead, right above his eyes, which were now glowing bright red. His muscles were visible under his fur, and the sheer weight of his body cracked the floor under him.

Strider looked on in disbelief as the man-monster became an actual monster. Could this be another demon, like the ones that Guts had brought along with him? Now was not the time to think about it.

"Ahh! Much better!" The beast roared in a louder and more hellish voice as he reached his final form. His head was so high above that the orb's light couldn't reach it.

"Now, about this darkness..." he murmured, then crouched down slightly. The orb revealed two appendages on his body... two massive... wings?

Strider watched on as the wings sped downward at remarkable speeds. A massive gust of wind blasted Strider, launching him several feet backwards onto his back. He looked back to the beast as soon as he could, but found he had disappeared. He heard loud flapping in the darkness overhead, no doubt coming from the beast. The darkness, however, was far too thick to see through, so Strider could only wait. He didn't have to wait long, as a loud smash broke the quiet. Far, far above him, a large hole was smashed into the ceiling. Through it, moonlight poured down, illuminating most of the massive room. Boulders fell from the destruction, smashing into the floor and sending dust everywhere and pebbles everywhere. Strider understood now: the beast had opened a hole to reveal his location! Now, there was nowhere to hide, except behind a pillar.

The beast fell from high above, landing with an impact so heavy it could've been felt miles away. The beast landed with a laugh.

"Ha! Know there's nowhere to hide, little man. You must face me!"

Strider rose to his feet and stared at the monster. It's mouth was salivating, probably in anticipation of a kill. Strider put his bow over his back, knowing it would be of no use now. This monster was definitely indestructible... unless it is a demon, like the others, and weak to elven craft. That was the only possibility. But it would be impossible to land a stab with his dagger, the beast's massive arms would kill him before he had a chance.

"Now I stand before you, us both in full light..." the beast began to speak. "...and STILL, you have not drawn your sword? You must be mad, or have accepted your death. Either way, I will tell you my name before you die. I am called Nosferatu Zodd, scourge of the battlefield, terror to soldiers."

Strider said nothing, but pulled out his elven knife and held it forward with both hands, like a child would.

"Isn't that sad? What are you going to do with that puny toy? And in that stance, as well. You might as well fell yourself with it! Ahaha!"

Once Zodd began laughing, Strider took the chance to sprint over to his fallen clothes. Zodd looked back to see Strider grab the orb sack, and was filled with battle passion. He roared, bringing his wings down to propel himself forward with incredible speed. He grabbed hold of Strider, squeezing him tightly. He pulled back on his wings, sending them upwards into the moonlit space. With a great flap of his wings, Zodd launched the two of them towards the hole in the ceiling, pulled his wings close to him to avoid hitting them on the jagged stone surrounding the hole, and the two of them burst into the quiet night sky.

Strider felt wind blowing through his hair with great speed. In his hands, he tightly clutched the orb sack and elven knife. Now was his chance, he thought. He raised his arm up, then plunged it into Zodd's massive hand, instantly singing the flesh. Zodd bellowed from the unexpected pain. He most likely had never felt elven work before, Strider figured.

The Strike was too much for Zodd, forcing him to release Strider into the night sky. Strider felt his stomach drop as he caught a glimpse of what was below him: nothing, for a hundred feet! The wind around him grew louder as his velocity increased, speeding him closer and closer to the sandy hills beneath him. Is this the end? he thought to himself. Would Middle-Earth prevail from the shadow of Sauron without him? His entire life played in his mind as he fell from the sky like a diving eagle, and in all of his memories, he was holding his sword. Now, he was going to die without it in his hands; instead, a strange, unknown orb, that may or may not hold any significance.

Just then, as he remembered the orb, he felt it pull. He completely forgot about falling to his for a moment, just long enough to reach into the sack. He pulled out the orb, and stared at it closely. He could almost hear it speak to him, between the swooshing of the slicing air. He held the orb to his chest, and struck the sand with enough force to kill an elephant.

...

Guts and Wander emerged from their small tent once they heard a crash off in the distance. It sounded like stone smashing, or a structure collapsing.

"What could that have been, at this time of night?" Guts asked the night sky. The two walked into the cool desert air, both half asleep. "Whoever made that noise, I'm gonna kick his ass."

They climbed up a hill, peeking their heads over to see the ruins Strider was investigating. What they saw surprised them: a massive, furry beast with an intimidatingly large wingspan. It was searching under stones and knocking over pillars, all while screaming, "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

Guts flinched at the sight of his rival.

"Zodd? Here? What the hell did Strider do?!"

He ran back to the tent and grabbed his sword. He rejoined Wander on the hill.

"You know that beast?" Wander asked.

"Yeah, I know him all too well."

Guts stood atop the the hill, his cape blowing powerfully behind him. He watched Zodd closely. Yep, that's Zodd alright.

"I think Strider's in trouble. You look for him, and I'll keep Zodd busy."

Wander looked at Guts, then back to Zodd.

"You're going to fight that thing? It is as tall as a tower."

Guts started down the hill towards Zodd, stretching his neck and cracking his knuckles.

"Yeah, I've done it before."

Wander felt unsure about this plan, but agreed nonetheless. He dashed around the hill, disappearing into the sands. Guts walked towards Zodd calmly, though he knew he would not get out of this unharmed.

"Oh wow! I can't believe it, my old friend Zodd! What are you doing here, good buddy?" Guts joked.

Zodd turned quickly, his eyes glowing brighter than ever. At the sight of Guts, his size increased ever so slightly.

"Struggler... I had a feeling I'd meet you here. You felt the call of the orb, also."

Guts was confused.

"The call of the what? No idea what you're talking about."

"Then you don't know the cloaked man I met down in the depths here?"

"Oh, yeah, I know him. Don't know nuthin' about an orb, though. Speaking of the cloaked man, where is he now?"

Zodd chuckled, pulling an arrow out from his arm and tossing it at Guts' feet.

"He tried to oppose me. How foolish. You can imagine what happened next." he grinned.

Guts took a step back. Strider was dead? That couldn't be, he would've ran and hid, or something. He's dead?

"Zodd, that was my friend, the first man who earned my respect in a long time. This time, I won't hold anything back."

"Ha! That man earned your respect? All he did was run and shoot arrows from the shadows. As soon as I saw him, he stood no chance. He is a weak swordsman."

Guts grit his teeth in anger. Zodd had killed his companion, and was now mocking him.

"Oh, here, you might want this, if he meant so much to you," Zodd said as he threw some shiny shards at Guts. They landed in the sand, and Guts saw that it was Strider's elven knife, broken into pieces. Guts knelt down to look at the broken artifact. He held the sand-covered shards in his hand, then put them in his pocket.

"Your friend's body has something I require, but I cannot find where it landed. After I kill you, I'll retrieve the relic, then deliver it to my master. This day could not go any better."

"One problem with that plan, Zodd," Guts rose his sword. "I'm not dying today."

"Feeling confident, are we? I can change that, struggler."

"HOLD"! a powerful voice commanded from the east. Both combatants turned to face the source, and both were surprised at the sight: Strider, atop a tall sand hill, his cloak cast off, his sword beaming brilliantly in the moonlight. In his off-hand he held an orb that was shining a deep blue. The orb was almost too bright to look at. The moonlight seemed to channel directly to his sword and the orb, giving them a magical presence.

"I haven't gotten my duel with Zodd yet, Guts," Strider spoke as he strolled down the hill towards them. "You wouldn't interrupt our fight, would you?"

Guts was in shock, firstly because Strider was alive, and secondly by the way he was speaking. Strider never spoke so... rhetorical, he was always serious, and he NEVER wanted to fight. Something was off about this whole night.

"Swordsman!" Zodd yelled. "You survived that fall? Impossible! Perhaps you have more mettle than I thought!" Zodd applauded, expecting an answer. Instead of an answer, he saw Strider increase his pace to a jog, then to a run, and finally a sprint. But no, that wasn't the end, as Strider began to run even faster, as fast as a hawk. Zodd stepped back in surprise, then raised his arms to meet Strider with a blow. As Strider reached him, Zodd swund downwards with all his might, intending to smash the swordsman through the earth. Instead, one of his arms was deflected by a parry from Strider's moon-lit greatsword. Zodd couldn't believe it, but before he could even understand what had just happened, his chest shot blood forth like a fountain.

"RaUGHahh!" he screamed as he covered his gushing wound. Strider wasted no time, dashing around the back of Zodd, cleaving an entire wing off. It fell to the ground, pushing a heap of sand and air out from under it. Zodd turned to Strider, who was holding his sword in front of his face. Guts watched in utter disbelief of Strider's skill and power. Where had he gained this energy? Did he have this power the whole time, and was only using it now? Or was it something to do with that orb? Whatever it was, Strider was destroying Nosferatu Zodd, bit by bit.

"You surprise me, swordsman! You survived that fall, and now you're besting me in combat! Now you understand..."

"Understand what?" Guts demanded.

"Now you understand the power of the orb, and why I must have it. Why my master must have it. You will give it to me!" Zodd roared as he smashed his fist into the ground at Strider's feet. Strider jumped over it, far into the air, landing on Zodd's massive head. He grabbed hold of his horns for stability, but Zodd quickly threw his hands towards Strider. In a lightning fast motion, Strider struck both hands away, nearly severing one of them. He held his sword to the sky, the blade seemingly absorbing the moon's light. With his sword glowing bright blue, he sunk it deep into Zodd's skull. It made the same sizzling effect as his knife had, which made pulling the blade out much easier. He leapt off the beast just as it fell to the sand, lifeless. Guts stood nearby, mouth agape. He couldn't form any words at the moment, only strange sounds that sounded like he had trouble breathing. Strider looked over the massive corpse of the monster, Zodd. Then he looked at the bright orb in his hand. It's light seemed to be slipping back to it's neutral state, and Strider could feel immense pain setting in. Whatever effect the orb had on him was now slipping away. He knelt to the ground, breathing deeply.

"Strider! How did you do that? Any of that?"

Strider couldn't respond. He felt the pressure of a mountain on him, and seconds later he was unconscious.

...

Strider opened his eyes to see a blue glow far away in front of him. All around him was endless darkness, even below him. He recognized the blue light as the orb. He looked down to his hands, but there were no hands, only darkness. In fact, there was no body, either. Strider was nothing more than a walking viewpoint. He didn't think about it much, because soon he felt the call of the orb again. He could hear silent speech emanating from inside the relic. He began to walk forward, but he didn't move any muscles in his legs. Instead, his mind knew where he wanted to go, and he simply went. As he proceeded, the light grew brighter, and brighter, until he was there. The light was so beautiful. If he had eyes, he would cry from the beauty. He got closer to the orb, and heard it speak to him. It told him to touch it, and that if he did, he would never have to go back to the world again. He could stay here in the darkness, in eternal peace and comfort, accompanied by the friendly orb. He remembered the pain he felt during his last moments on the earth, and dreaded the thought of feeling that again. He looked deep into the orb, and told it he would stay, forever. All he had to do was touch the orb, and he would never return to the world he knew so well, yet so little. The choice was almost too easy. He began to reach for the orb, but decided he wanted to hold his sword while he did it. He reached instead for his sword, but there was no sword in his sheath. There wasn't even a sheath, just more dark. The orb told him that he wouldn't need his sword where he was going. He wasn't sure. His sword was everything to him. Since he was young, his sword had been by his side, always. To stay here with the orb, he would have to leave his sword behind? As he thought on it, he remembered other things he would leave behind as well: his elf-friends, his cloak, his amulet, his bow. He wouldn't be able to return the bow to the little girl, even though he promised. The little girl made him remember the rest of the stranded refugees, and then he remembered Middle-Earth. He would be leaving Middle-Earth forever. Would it survive without him? Was his task that important?

The orb beckoned him to touch it. He wanted to so badly, but instead he spoke to it.

"Middle-Earth, my friends, this world... they need me. I can't give up yet. My task is not yet complete."

The orb seemed to hiss at him, turning a dark red. The ground began to shake, despite there being no ground at all. What was happening? The orb was so friendly... No, the orb wasn't friendly. It was tricking him! He began to walk backwards, away from the light. As he struggled to escape, he saw something coming into the light behind the orb. Red, pulsating flesh began to form around it, and he could just barely make out what was behind the orb. His vision was fading quickly, but the last thing he saw... were wings of darkness.

...

Strider opened his eyes, this time seeing the inside of a tent. He tried to raise himself up, but he felt like a sack of stone. He noticed his pack beside him. Perfect. If he could reach into the sack he might be able to find...

Lembas bread! Magical grain cooked by the elves, known for it's healing properties. He pulled out a small bag containing a couple of pieces. He ate just a small bit, and he instantly felt better. With some minor stretching, he lifted himself up, and walked out into the sunlight.

"Oh hey! Look who isn't dead!" Guts jeered, happy to see his friend alive and walking. "Do you remember anything about last night? You were incredible!"

Strider thought about it. Yes, he remembered everything, even though it happened so fast. He went down into the ruins, found the monster Zodd, grabbed an orb, then survived a hundred-foot fall. Even after surviving that, he then went on to slay Zodd with incredible speed and power. Then he remembered the orb in his dream last night, and how it tried to trick him into death.

"Guts, where is the orb?"

Guts pointed to the orb resting on the sand a few yards from them, still glowing blue.

"That orb cannot be trusted," Strider told him, pulling out a cloth from a pocket. He took the orb and wrapped it in the cloth, tying it with a string. He put it in his sack.

"That orb...," Guts started. "...it caused you to do whatever the hell you did last night. With the running, and the slicing, and stuff. You might not know it, but that demon, Zodd, is one of the most powerful demons there is. I've never been able to kill him, and every time we face, I usually end up with broken bones. You were able to kill him with three strikes."

Strider lit his pipe.

"Yes, and not only did it give me energy beyond measure, it also saved me from a fall as high as a mountain. The orb is capable of great power, which must have attracted Zodd's master. Zodd said his master must have the orb at all costs. The whole situation is eerily similar to my own, back home."

Guts laughed. "So you're used to this then, eh?"

"The plight of Middle-Earth has yet to unfold, Guts, I do not know how it will end. What I do know, however, is that there is a powerful artifact being seeked out by a great evil. The artifact has incredible power and influence over the world around it. I think this orb may have the same power."

Guts looked confused.

"So what do we do with it? Smash it?"

"No, that wouldn't work. I can feel it. It cannot be destroyed by normal means. What I don't know, is if this relic holds the key to our situation. It could help us somewhere, so we mustn't leave it behind."

"Yeah, like if we need you to kill another immortal enemy, eh?" Guts joked.

"No, we must never use the orb like that again. It almost took me last night. I fear that one who hasn't the will I have would be easily swayed by it's temptation. We must keep it secured at all times."

"Whatever you say, you're the smart one."

Strider looked towards the mountain, where their battle would be happening shortly. He felt frustrated at all the questions without answers.

"I am bothered by our lack of knowledge, Guts. We're following a lead that may or may not have anything to do with our problem, and now we've found a powerful artifact that's being sought after by a ruler of demons. Were we fated to be here? Could this be the path we must take to save Middle-Earth..."

"If you say one more damn thing about Middle-Earth..." Guts cut him off. "...then I'm gonna take that orb and smash you over the head with it."

Strider looked to Guts, interested on what he was going to say.

"All you do is worry about that place, and how you're going to get back to it and save it, or whatever. What could one man possibly do? You've gotta have some faith in that place, don't you? It won't burn to ash in the week you're gone, will it? Gods' sake, man! Don't you think our current mission needs your focus? It's time to start thinking about right now, and not what could or may happen later. That's how you get yourself killed in a fight."

Strider couldn't help but reveal a smile. Guts' berating had caused him to loosen up a bit.

"What? Is that funny or something?"

"No, Guts, you're exactly right. I must stop worrying so. We have a task at hand, and... well, I must be an awful drain on your motivation right now. I apologize, and I thank you for bringing me back to reality."

Guts was caught off guard by that response. He wasn't expecting Strider to actually accept his criticism.

"Until we solve this mystery, I shall give it my foremost focus, passion, and ability. I will help to the best of my ability."

He held his hand out to Guts. Guts looked down, then back to Strider, and smiled.

"Good," he said, standing tall and ready. "Now let's get back to our job."


	9. South-East Airs

Chapter 9: South-east Airs

The morning came with a cool breeze that wasn't often felt in deserts. The sun was merely warm, seeming to pass light more than pass heat. This temperature was perfect for a strenuous battle that could last hours, Strider thought to himself. He had no idea what it would take to fell such a monster, but Wander did.

"What do you think we can do to combat the flying beast?" Strider asked Wander. "You have slain many before, you say. What can we do?"

The men began walking towards the looming mountain before them, where the monster was resting nearby.

"The colossi have weak points throughout their body," Wander replied. "We grab hold of it at some point, climb over until we find a spot, then thrust a blade into it. It will be glowing bright green, and the colossus will react when you strike it."

"Bright green spots, eh? Don'tcha think that's a bad flaw for these creatures?" Guts said.

"I do not know what the ancient demon was thinking when he designed them, but it must have some point to it. Regardless, it is fortunate for us."

They walked past Zodd's body, next to the ruins and rubble. It hadn't moved an inch since the fight.

"Oh yeah," Guts said upon seeing Zodd. "We'd better go quick, he won't stay dead long."

Strider turned his hooded face slightly.

"He will reanimate?"

"Not sure what that means, but if it means he comes back to life, then yes. Strong demons tend to do that. I actually stabbed him through the heart once, but he still didn't die for good. Demons are tough bastards."

"And they follow you. You must have had a troublesome life, Guts."

Guts looked off into the desert.

"Yeah, you could say that."

After a few minutes in silence, Guts spoke again.

"Y'know, ever since I met you, I haven't had much trouble with demons. Not only do I mean you kill just as many as I do, but they also aren't coming nearly as much. It's been years since I had a peaceful night's rest. Maybe it's got something to do with that elvish amulet you've got, or something else, but whatever it is, I'm grateful. I love swinging my sword around, but it's nice to get a break."

"That is good to hear, Guts. I am also grateful to you, for showing me that there is time for worry, and time for action. I believe we have benefited greatly from each other's experiences."

"Agreed," Guts finished. After a couple more minutes, Guts turned to Strider again.

"So, are elf women sexy?" he said through a cheeky grin.

Strider returned with a chuckle.

"Oh yes, my friend. They certainly are."

...

The trio stopped atop the tallest hill they could see. From here, they could clearly see the entire landscape from there to the base of the mountain. The odd thing was that there was no sign of their target anywhere, despite Wander's sword pointing directly forward, right to the base of the mountain. The beam shone directly into the sand.

"So what, it's under the sand?" Guts said to sand.

Wander stared into the sea of desert, thinking the same thing as Guts. The colossus was resting in the sand, to escape the heat, no doubt. How it could get it's massive body deep underground was a mystery to all.

"We're going to have to... stir it, somehow," Wander said. "Though I don't know how."

Guts began walking towards the supposed destination.

"Don't worry, guys, I'll wake the big bastard up."

He walked down to where the blade had shown. He kicked around at the sand for some reason, maybe to see if he could unearth some part of the beast. When that failed, he took his sword into his hand and held it high.

"This oughta do the trick," he said before smashing the blade into the sand, causing it to fly up and everywhere. When it settled, all that had been done was Guts covering himself in sand from his strike.

"Well," he said between spitting out sand, "that didn't work."

He rejoined the other two, brushing off as much sand as he could.

"Anyone got anything else?" he asked them. Strider looked at the area, but came up with nothing to solve their problem. Wander went through his pockets, fishing out numerous ancient-looking knick-knacks and miscellaneous strange objects, but seemed disappointed at them.

"I was hoping I had something on me that might trigger the colossi's awakening, but these are all useless here. Do you men have anything of magical properties?" he asked Guts and Strider. "I know none of us are practitioners of magic, but anyone can keep a magic item."

"All my stuff is back at the campsite," Guts told him. "It's all bombs and gunpowder anyway, nothin' magical."

Strider went through his bags. Although he left the majority of his gear back at the camp, he still kept several small bags on him, usually at all times. He had lembas bread, matches, his bow and arrows, and dozens of other useful items. As for magic items... he had nothing. Or wait...

"The orb." Strider said. "The orb could wake it."

Wander's eyes lit up.

"That could do it, perhaps. It seems to give off a powerful energy, doesn't it?"

Strider took the small sack containing the orb from his belt.

"You brought that thing? Why didn't you leave it at the camp?" Guts asked him.

"It attracts demons, as we've discovered, just like your brand. It would have been stolen, left unattended."

"Hmm, if you say so," Guts said back, eyeing the bag.

Strider walked over to where the blade's beam had landed. He held the bag in front of him for a moment.

"Do not look at it, it will draw you in."

Guts and Wander looked away, and Strider removed the orb from it's prison. He held it out, not looking at it, and waited. Ten seconds passed, then a minute. Nothing. He put the orb away.

"It failed. It has no effect here."

The two looked back to Strider, disappointed. If the powerful orb didn't work, what possibly could?

Guts kicked at the sand out of frustration.

"I wanna kill something, dammit!" he yelled.

Wander watched Strider fasten the orb back onto his belt, and noticed something strange. Strider's shirt seemed to be pulling away from him, or something under the shirt was.

Strider noticed it also. He reached down his shirt and pulled out his amulet, which was pulling away from him, down towards the earth. He let it go, and it magnetized to the ground in front of him. If it wasn't around his neck, it would've shot off into the sand.

"What is it doing, Strider?" Wander asked.

"I am unsure. It seems to be attracted to the ground... which could only mean the colossus. Something about it pulls the amulet."

Strider took the amulet from his neck and slipped it around his wrist, maintaining a firm grip. He knelt down to allow it to get closer to it's target, all the while the magnetization increased. As it touched the sand it was pulling with considerable force for such a small object.

Then, the ground shook. And again.

"Hey, uh, did you guys feel somethin'?" Guts asked them. They didn't answer, as they were preoccupied with knowing what was about to happen.

"Step back!" Strider commanded. The ground shook harder, and more constantly now.

"It is rising!" Wander yelled. "We must grab hold before it goes into the air!"

As he finished, a massive horn-like object emerged from the sand with great speed. This was their target. Strider and Guts looked on in awe as the massive body revealed itself, but Wander wasted no time grabbing hold of a thick patch of fur. The two others snapped out of their trance and ran to the colossus, grabbing on as tightly as they could. They rose away from the ground at incredible speed, causing Strider to remember the feeling of weightlessness he had experienced last night as he was flung through the air by Zodd. Not a fond memory.

The air and sand blasted their faces, forcing their eyes shut. They clung on blindly as the beast rose from it's resting place, which seemed to last for an hour. Eventually, it would begin flying parallel to the ground, allowing them to stand on it's back. All they had to do was wait for it.

After what felt like an eternity on their tired arms, the colossus started to level out. Except, it was leveling out the wrong way! They had grabbed onto it's underside! As it became parallel with the ground, Guts and Strider were dangling helplessly by it's fur, their arms growing weaker by the second. Strider was able to open his eyes finally, and when he did, he saw the massive blue sacs that he saw when he first seen the beast several days earlier. Then, he made the mistake of looking down. Below them was the ground, but farther than Strider had ever seen it before. The distance was ten times that of when Zodd had carried him into the sky. A fall from this height would not only mean certain death, but would also create a sizable crater in the ground where their corpses would land.

Strider's attention was regained but Guts' yelling.

"Strider! We've got to climb to the side! We gotta get on top!"

Strider could barely hear Guts through the wind, but understood nonetheless. He looked around and saw the closest edge of the colossus. The two began swinging over to it like monkeys in the trees. Strider could feel his arms giving out. He had another twenty seconds at the absolute most. If that. Guts was even further than he was. Would Guts survive? Strider couldn't look back now, he had to ensure he was safely on the other side first. He swung over, making it to the edge. The edge of the colossus was made of jagged stone. There was nothing to grab onto! He looked around desperately, but knew this was the end. His grip was slipping quickly now, even though his hands knew it was life or death. Then, he saw a bow appear from the side of the beast. Without thinking about it, he reached out, just barely making the grab. As he hung from the bow, he saw that Wander was on top, and had used his bow to reach Strider. Wander pulled him up, and Strider collapsed on the furry top of the colossus. Wander went back to do the same with Guts, but there was no response. Wander thought the worst had happened, but then, a bandaged hand reached out and grabbed the bow. Guts had made it! Only problem was that Guts' weight combined with his sword was far too much for Wander. Wander held on for whatever reason, sending him over the edge, but he didn't fall. He held onto the bow that carried Guts, and he saw he was clearly over the edge, himself also hanging, but he wasn't falling. Instead, he began being pulled up onto the back of the colossus. As his body regained a firm placement on solid stone, he felt his shirt being released, then saw Strider hang himself over the edge. Wander felt his bow lighten, then saw Strider hoist Guts up onto the colossi's back. All three were safe on the beast, but they all lay breathing heavily for a few seconds before anyone said anything.

"J... just in time, b-boys," Guts thanked them through gasping breaths. "Another second, and... phew... and I was a goner."

"Wander, you are a genius," Strider told the boy, who was already on his feet.

"Save your thanks for when we're on the ground."

The men agreed. Now was time to take the colossus down.

"We must find the weak points!" Wander yelled over the wind.

Strider stood, knowing what must be done, but he caught a glimpse of the ground as he stood near the edge. He saw the land beneath them moving at an incredible pace. The beast was flying much faster then it was the other day. Now, it was rested, and most likely agitated from the disturbance. Strider looked at the landscape, watching it turn from desert to grassland, then to a thick forest, then a swamp, and so forth. They were moving so quickly that they would be in another country in a few minutes.

"We have to take it down quickly!" Strider yelled. "It's carrying us far!"

"Yeah, no shit!" Guts yelled back. "Let's hurry up and kill it!"

Wander set off walking up the great creature, looking down for green weak spots, but seeing none. None of the men saw any, but they had a lot of surface left to check. Somehow, Wander was running towards the head of the beast, through the harsh wind. He was surely going to check the head, which made sense. Although, the head was so far away that it would take him several minutes to reach.

"Screw this!" Guts announced as he stabbed his sword into the colossus' body. To his dismay, the massive blade merely bounced off, not leaving a scratch.

"What the hell? Is it made of steel?!"

"The weak points, Guts!" Strider called. "Find them!"

"Oh, I'll find them, alright..." he muttered.

As Strider continued to look for the spots, he smelled a distinct smell. He glanced over the edge of the colossus, and saw something horrifying. Off into the distance, and approaching quickly, was an expansive blue ocean. The smell of saltwater filled the air, and grew more powerful with each passing second.

Strider saw Guts was too busy looking for weak points to notice the smell. They were going over the ocean! If they didn't kill it soon, they would be doomed to a watery grave when the beast fell. Strider looked around frantically for anything that could be a weak point, but all he saw was fur, stone, and three large flaps along the beast's top, that appeared to be shut. He looked back over to the ocean, and saw it was too late. They passed over the water, the land quickly disappearing behind them.

Strider didn't know what to make of the situation. He decided to trudge over to Guts, to inform him. He came up to Guts, who was smashing at the colossus to no avail.

"Guts!" he yelled to him. "Look!"

Guts looked up, then over to the side. His face lost expression.

"So, uh..." he began. "...we're probably dead, right?"

"It certainly looks that way, my friend! If the beast falls, we will all drown."

"So why don't we wait until we're back above land before we kill it?!" Guts called.

"That is not a bad idea! At this speed we could get back above land within a few hours!"

"Ok, then! I guess we just wait for now!"

The men sat down in the fur, where they didn't have to worry about getting blown off. Just then, however, they both scrambled to their feet as they remembered the same thing at the same time: Wander was going to the head! If he struck it down, they would all die!

"We gotta stop him!" Guts yelled. They both ran as fast as they could up the beast, which was more like a brisk walking speed. They couldn't see Wander, the head was so far ahead, that he would appear as a small speck to them. All they could do was hope they got to him before he found a weak spot.

Suddenly, a shadow passed by the sun. Guts noticed it quickly, and looked up, seeing a massive creature slam down onto the colossus in front of them. It kicked up dust and sand, causing the men to shield their eyes. When the dust flew off into the sky, they saw the last thing they wanted to see right now: Nosferatu Zodd, in one piece, though banged up. He was somehow even bigger than he was the night before, and much angrier.

"Zodd!" Guts screamed.

Zodd spread his massive wings in an intimidating manner.

"Found you, swordsman! Our battle has not yet finished!"

"Could you pick another time? We're over the damn ocean, on a giant... thing, going gods-know where! Now is not the time!"

Zodd roared, so loudly in vibrated the air around him.

"Those who wait for combat are the first to die in it! We will fight, now!"

As he said that, he flung himself forward. It was clear that he wanted revenge on Strider, and was willing to go to any lengths to kill him. They had no time to fight Zodd now, they had to get to Wander to tell him not to kill the colossus, but Zodd was blocking the way. The only way past was through him.

"Guts, we have to take him down! We must get past!" Strider called to Guts.

"Take him down?! How!? I can barely stand straight on this thing!"

Guts was right. Their balance hardly existed on this speeding monster's back, yet Zodd looked unaffected by it. The situation looked grim. Zodd was approaching, towering above them, and they had to tell Wander to hold off on the attack.

The men held their swords forward, watching Zodd stomp over, his eyes glowing red.

"If this is where we die..." Strider spoke, "...then let us die fighting."


	10. To the Sky

Chapter 10: To the Sky

The intense saltwater wind blasted Guts and Strider with enough force to almost send them flying into the sea. They had to brace just to maintain solid footing on the back of the massive serpentine colossus, but with Zodd quickly approaching, they would have to move. His powerful steps caused more difficulty for standing. Finally, he was in range of his targets, and began his attack. Zodd swung an enormous arm down at Strider, who just barely had time to jump back. To Strider's surprise, when he jumped back the wind carried much higher into the air then he had planned for. When he landed, he was twenty feet away from Guts and Zodd.

Guts took a swing at Zodd's arm, just barely missing as Zodd pulled away.

"Y'know, we never finished our fight," Guts said casually, despite the utter chaos of the situation. "How about you and me settle this right here, right now? Leave Strider. Fight me."

Zodd snorted a plume of smoke from his nostrils. He had never declined a challenge before, and he wasn't going to now.

"Very well, Struggler. I accept your challenge!"

Guts turned to Strider, who was making his way back up to them, and sent a silent message through his eyes. Strider understood immediately. Guts was going to distract the monster, Zodd, allowing Strider to sneak past and get to Wander.

Guts turned back in time to block a punch from Zodd, which almost knocked him over. He answered with a swing that shaved some hair off Zodd's arm. The two continued to trade swings and blocks, all the while Strider inched his way past along the side of the colossus. Zodd either didn't see him, or didn't care, he just kept focusing on Guts' massive sword.

Strider had made it past Zodd, and now all that was left was an incredibly long stretch of beast ahead of him. The head was so far that he couldn't tell if he saw Wander on it, or if it was just some shadows. Either way, he had to get there, quickly. He moved as fast as he could, lowering himself as much as he could to try to render himself more aerodynamic. This was met with some success, allowing his pace to increase. He stumbled past fur, stone, and another strange flap on the ground. He looked back to see Guts still fighting with Zodd, somehow keeping the monster's strikes away through all this wind.

Strider turned back, he was almost there, just a few more air-blasted minutes. Hopefully Wander hadn't yet found what he was looking for.

...

Atop the highest balcony on the tower of Orthanc stood the white wizard Saruman. In his outstretched arm and hand he held the object his master had given him several days prior, a small, ovular relic with strange features. The wizard examined it thoroughly, unsure on how he could use this to summon his master. The object was covered in aspects of a human face: a nose, two eyes, and a mouth, but none were positioned with any semblance of rhythm, just scattered about the thing. Something about seemed to disrupt the air around it, causing it to be both hot and cold to the touch at once. Saruman put it back in his pocket and looked down to his orcs hard at work.

On the grounds of Isengard, weapons, armor and war machines were being crafted with great haste in preparation for the invasion of Mordor. Through plundering missions ordered by Saruman, the army was provided with ample resources to fit their every need. Metal stolen from towns, villages, and even from enemy bands. Wood from Fangorn forest, which the orcs harvested mercilessly. The preparations were going according to plan, and on top of it all, Saruman's newest creation was underway. Using his knowledge of the dark arts, he had perfected the orcish race to that of an apex predatorial being. Born deep below the earth, out of mud and fire came forth his perfect creation: the fighting Uruk-Hai. These orcs were much, much taller than the average orc, and twice as heavy. With their massive frames, they could easily wield the most powerful of weapons, and run in the heaviest of armor. With thousands already born and suited up, Saruman knew his task was complete. The most powerful force Middle-Earth has ever seen was waiting under his command. Now was the time to summon his master.

Saruman looked down to see that all was well one last time, then took the oval object from his pocket and held it high.

"Master!" he called into the cloudy sky. "Heed my call!"

The small object began to vibrate in his wrinkled hand. He looked on as it's visage began to shift around itself in utter chaos. Then, the features started to line up how a human face would: two eyes, then the nose, then the mouth. Once it's face was in a correct position, it stopped shaking. For a few moments, utter silence, then...

To Sarman's bewilderment, the permanently-shut eyes of the strange relic slowly began to open to the world. Along with them, the mouth slowly opened as well. The deep eyes stared directly into Saruman's soul, and started to release a stream of liquid from it's eyes. It was thick and red, which could only have been blood. From it's agape mouth came a nightmarish scream, which sounded like a thousand different tormented souls at once. The blood poured into Saruman's hand, but he held on despite his desire to toss the cursed object. He simply watched as the screaming and bleeding relic began to return to a neutral state, eyes slowly closing and screams fading. Behind the wizard, a gust of icy wind, and with it, shadows. Saruman turned to the figure of darkness.

"It is done, master, the army is awaiting my command." he said.

"Very good, Saruman, and not a moment late. Impressive."

Saruman bowed. "Thank you, o powerful master. Please, lead us in conquest, so that no foe can stand before us."

The dark figure walked onto the balcony to see the work. It truly was a sight to behold, thousands of tiny figures working in unison to achieve the goal of someone they've never seen or head of. Perfect.

Saruman joined the figure.

"How went your task, master? Did you find that which you sought?"

He turned to Saruman, revealing his piercing eyes.

"I found what I sought, yes..."

"Excellent, my lord. Very good." Saruman applauded.

"Alas, it was stolen from me, good Saruman. Right from my hand."

Saruman couldn't believe that. How could anyone in this world steal something from his master? He was much too powerful to allow that.

"Master, how could that be? Your power is much too great."

"Dear Saruman, there are some things we cannot control, no matter our power and influence. And while it is disappointing to have lost what I wanted, it matters not. Besides, I found out where he is."

"He, my lord? Who is he, if I may ask."

The dark figure turned to look off into the horizon.

"Do not fret, my faithful servant, for you shall meet him soon enough."

...

"Wander!? WANDER!" Strider yelled forward as he finally arrived at the massive head of the colossus. It's head was made of jagged stone that raised and lowered in several areas, jutting far out in some places and caving in in others. Wander had to be in there somewhere.

As Strider inspected the landscape before him, he found that there was no fur on the head to grab onto, and hardly any surface that could be stood on. Getting to the front of it would require a bit of rock scaling, which made Strider's hands hurt just thinking about it. However, it was that or possibly death, so he got right to it. He found a stone ledge that appeared to run across the beast's massive head, all the way to the front. He held onto the ledge and used his feet to provide some support on the slanted surface, which eased the workload off his hands. With a stable grip, he shimmied across the side of the creature's face. The wind never let up, though it didn't cause him much trouble holding on. The most trouble it gave him was forcing his hair in his face, which wasn't an issue before since he was facing forward. Now, he was sideways, and couldn't see very well.

He continued along for some time, occasionally resting for a moment or two, until he came to the end of the ledge. Fortunately, the stone under him wasn't slanted terribly, allowing him to stand and examine his surroundings. He held his hair out of his face to see, and he saw a startling sight. Right in front of him was a gigantic eye, as big as his entire body. It wasn't an eyeball, however, it looked flat, and glowed a greenish hue. It was covered in strange patterns.

"Greetings, monster!" he yelled through the wind at the eye. The eye was positioned at the side of the head, rather than the front like he was expecting. Predator's eyes are placed at the front for a number of reasons, mainly to assist their focus in combat, while the eyes of prey are placed at the sides of their heads to increase their field of view, to watch for predators. Why was it's eyes like that of prey? This creature was pure evil, was it not?

Strider finished looking at the strange eye and continued forward. He saw a pathway leading down and around to the front of the beast that looked safe enough, with proper caution. The constant barrage of air made it much more difficult, however, and the sight of nothing but ocean hundreds of miles below wasn't much solace, either.

After some painfully-slow descending, Strider reached the front of the monster. It's strange shape created a sort of cave-like orifice where it's mouth would be, but it wasn't a mouth, just an opening and a small conclave inside. Strider entered, finally finding his target.

"Wander! Wait!" he yelled at the boy without even seeing what he was doing in there. As Wander turned, Strider saw there was no weak spot in here, just strange markings.

"Strider! Have you located any weak points?"

"No, and from the looks of it, you haven't either. Which is a very good thing." Strider said through heavy breaths.

"Good thing?" Wander asked. "But we must find the points to fell the beast..."

"Have you not looked outside? How long have you been in here?"

"I found this opening some time ago, and found these markings on the walls. I've been trying to read them, to the best of my ability. It has been several minutes, I suppose, maybe more. Why do you ask?"

Strider didn't answer, only stepped aside and motioned for Wander to look outside, which he did promptly. Upon re-entering the sunlight, he saw blue. Blue above, and below, as far as the eye could see.

"O-oh..." he stammered. "We cannot kill it now... we would plunge to the depths with it."

"That is exactly what I've come to tell you." Strider explained. "Thankfully you have not yet found the monster's weakness."

Wander continued to peer into the horizon.

"We will have to wait until it passes land again. At this speed, it shouldn't take very long, perhaps a day," he said.

Strider then had a troubling thought.

"What if the colossus is doing this on purpose? To keep us from attacking?"

Wander barely had to think about it to return an answer.

"No, it couldn't. It knows it would tire before long in the air like this. It will search for a location to land soon, since it's rest was cut short by us."

Strider nodded. That was a relief. Now all they had to do was wait, and they would soon be able to continue with their plan. They could even wait in this cave, since there was little wind in there. Guts would probably like to get out of this wind...

"Guts!" Strider yelled with a jump. "Guts is under attack! We must aid him!"

Wander said nothing, and followed quickly behind Strider as they began the climb up to the top again. As they climbed, Wander passed Strider quickly, and was past the ledge and on the furry top in no time at all. That boy sure is good at climbing, Strider thought. First a tree, now a massive stone-covered monster a thousand feet in the air while being blasted by wind. Impressive.

Once they reached they top, they could see Zodd's massive frame engaged in combat with a tiny speck. For Guts to look tiny, they must've been very, very far away. Fortunately, this time the wind was at their back, making their run much easier. It would still take several minutes, and there was no time to lose.

As the two ran to their friend's aid, they saw Zodd land a powerful smash on Guts, knocking him down, where he didn't get back up. Zodd stomped over to him. He was going to kill Guts!

Strider stopped dead, then he yelled to Wander.

"Wander!"

Wander turned, confused why Strider would stop here.

"JUMP!" Strider commanded the lad.

Wander hesitated for a second, but knew Strider must have thought of something. So, without much more thought, he leapt high into the air. Immediately he knew what Strider's plan was, to an extent. He felt the wind behind him, and spread out to catch as much as he could. As planned, it shot him forward with incredible speed.

As Strider watched, he knew the first step of his plan worked. He took his bow from his back, notched an arrow, and pulled back hard on the string. With one eye closed, he saw his target, and released the arrow. It only picked up speed as it flew through the air at Zodd. By the time it reached Zodd's back, it had gathered enough speed to pierce through his back and out his chest. Instinctively, he spun around to face the assailant, but was surprised to see a young man soaring through the air, completely parallel to the colossus' back, sword pointed forward.

Zodd could only utter a small gasp before Wander's black blade entered his forehead with enough force to almost knock the giant beast over. On impact, Wander was sent flying, eventually landing back down on the colossus, twenty feet away. Zodd, reeling from the strike, looked at the handle in front of his eyes. If anything, he seemed more angry than injured at this deathly blow. He began to raise his hands to the blade to pull it out, but was even more surprised by the biggest blade the world has ever seen emerging from his chest. Behind Zodd stood a bloodied and battered Guts, stabbing his signature weapon into his longtime enemy, with a look on his face that could only be described as berserk.

Guts tore the enormous weapon from the demon, and with it came half of Zodd's internal organs, including his black heart. Zodd's body quickly went limp, toppling over and almost landing on Guts. He was slain once again.

Guts leaned on his sword while he regained his breath. He gave Zodd a few kicks out of pure spite.

"How long will this one keep ya down, pal? Hopefully long enough to let us get off this damn thing..."

Wander walked up next to Guts, but didn't say anything. He went to Zodd's head and retrieved his sword.

"Yeah, you're gonna wanna wash that thing, boy. Demon blood has some nasty side-effects if left untreated." Guts informed him.

"I shall. It is a miracle you survived such a foe, Guts."

"Eh, I've fought him before. Maybe if that was my first time, yeah. I'd be dead."

Strider joined the two, ensuring Zodd was dead as he passed him.

"Actually, I'd be dead if it weren't for you two. Big bastard actually had me on the ground there."

The men stood staring at Zodd's corpse for the second time. Then, Strider spoke.

"What do you suggest we do with him, Guts? It's clear he will return again."

"Unfortunately, there isn't much we can do to keep him down for good. All we can do is kill him when he shows up, and repeat. For right now, I think he's awfully dirty, and in need of a bath. What do you boys think?!" Guts said with a laugh. Nobody laughed in return.

"Haha... yeesh. Alright, let's kick this guy off."

The three all pushed in unison, but it was apparent that Guts was contributing the most. Zodd went without much struggle, probably because the surface where he lay slanted downwards from his weight. He slid off the edge, and the colossus stabilized again. All three men watched as the demon fell for hundreds of feet, but with the colossus moving so quickly, Zodd was out of view before he even reached the sea.

The group returned to the center and sat down to rest. They all knew it would be a long day on this beast, so they got settled in for the wait. All except Wander, that is.

"We should find the weak points before we rest," he told them. Who knows when we will be above land again, it could be within a few hours."

"Peace, Wander. Sit and rest," Strider instructed. "I have found the weak points."

Wander's eyes widened. "You have? Where do they hide?!"

Strider pointed to a couple feet away, to one of the three large flaps they all noticed. "Under there."

Wander walked up to it, and peeked underneath. Without having to lift the flap at all, he could see the green glow he was so accustomed to.

"That's it! The weak point!"

"Yes it is, lad," Strider said between puffs of his pipe. "We may rest."

...

The sun was starting to set, without any sign of land in sight. The colossi's pace had slowed to it's regular speed, as it was probably coming time for it to rest. This pace produced less wind for the men, making it easier to relax.

"Hey, Strider," Guts said. "What did you do before all this? Were you a mercenary?"

"I am a ranger of the north. A group who specializes in moving like the shadows, and hunting and tracking prey, and by prey, I mean more than just animals. For some time, I guarded the black gate of Mordor, but in recent years I've traveled the land performing tasks for my dear friend, a wizard. That is what I used to do."

"Uh huh, that's real interesting. What did your wizard friend need you to do?"

"Well, most recently he required I track down a strange and wretched creature who knew information about the relic we sought. A small golden ring of great evil, it was."

"Not what I was expecting. I would've thought you were a bandit or thief, judging by your appearance. All that dark, y'know? You blend in with shadows."

"That is the way of the Rangers. Tell me Guts, what did you do prior to our meeting?

Guts thought for a second. "Well, I used to be a mercenary. Fighting simply for pay, stuff like that. Had a lot of good friends in the business, too."

"Had? You don't work with them anymore?" Strider questioned.

"They aren't with us anymore."

"I understand. I'm sorry for your loss." Strider said, figuring his friends had died in combat.

"You should sleep. Both of you," Strider told Guts and Wander. "I will watch for signs of land, all night if I must. You two need your rest while you can get it."

"Do you even sleep?" Guts poked.

"When I must."

"You're a freak of nature, you know that?" Guts joked as he lay down on the fur.

"Y'know, I really wish we had brought our stuff," Guts complained. "We'll never get it back. You know how many bombs I had in that bag?!"

Strider chuckled at the statement. "I know, but we will be fine without it. Get some rest, friends."


	11. Of Treacherous Intent

Chapter 11: Of Treacherous Intent

Somehow, both Guts and Wander were able to fall asleep atop the soaring behemoth. In fact, Guts seemed to not mind it at all, falling asleep just as fast as he did when they were on the ground. Wander fell asleep before too long, as well.

Strider sat on the fur of the colossus, watching the the stars shine in the water below. There wasn't a cloud to be seen this night, giving the moonlight no obstacle on it's path down to them. With the moonlight enchanting the area, Strider remembered how it seemed to fill his sword with it's aura a few nights ago. What had that been about? Something about the orb he had seemed to call power onto his weapon, as if it knew the situation. The orb had a strange power, and powerful it was. An old enemy of Guts' was sent to retieve the object from all this way. It reminded Strider of his own world, with the ring, and the wraiths who hunt it tirelessly. Perhaps Guts' world isn't so different from his own, Strider thought. And Wander's world... well, Wander wasn't much of a talker, so no one knew anything about his homeland. Perhaps it was for the best.

"Ever been out to sea?" Guts suddenly asked, to Strider's surprise.

"No, I've never left land."

"You ain't missing anything, believe me. It's slow, boring, and smells. Some people love it, but I can't stand it."

"Mmm, I think I understand. It's much like our journey right now, then. We must wait for far too long with nothing to do."

"That's it exactly. But I understand if it must be done to get somewhere, and we've for sure gotta get somewhere," Guts spoke in a quiet-enough voice as to not wake Wander.

"What roused you?" Strider asked him.

"Look here," Guts said, pointing to his neck. It bled, but not as bad as Strider had seen.

"Demons?!" he said as he got to his feet, hand on his sword.

"Yeah, it is demons, but they must be far." Guts said. "It doesn't hurt that much."

He looked around briefly, then rolled over to an edge, looking downwards.

"Yep, there they are."

Strider joined him, and saw something far below in the water. It was too far to see clearly, but it looked ethereal, like it wasn't tangible.

"See that foggy spot? Yeah, that's a ship. A ghost ship, you could say."

"It is able to detect your mark from this distance?"

"I guess so."

"Well, it would appear they aren't going to be an issue for us."

"Nope. I'm going back to sleep."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Within two minutes, Guts was fast asleep again. It sure was handy to have an indicator of danger as powerful as Guts' mark, even being able to rouse the burly man from a deep sleep. What was troubling was the power of attraction the mark has on demons. For them to sense it from this far must mean Guts will never be safe anywhere he goes, but then why haven't demons attacked very often since they've been together? It's only been three times they were attacked by demons since he joined up with Guts.

Then Strider remembered his amulet, and it's ability to repel demons. Ah, yes, that's right. With this amulet, the demons can't come near them, thank the gods. The elves always seem to have the right tools for every situation.

Strider watched the moon sail overhead for hours. It's light made him feel rested, despite not sleeping for nearly 24 hours. The moon had helped him once again. Strider thought back to when he had visited Rivendell many years ago. During the night, he walked up to the shrine to Isildur, an ancestor of his that wielded the blade that cut the ring from Sauron, Narsil. On the strike, Narsil was shattered to pieces that were later recovered from the battlefield. Now, all these years later, it's pieces rested atop a stone slab in memoriam of that great triumph. Strider looked upon the legendary weapon, and found that it was glowing a light blue. He looked up to see a hole built high on the wall ahead, which, at this specific time of night, caused the moonlight to beam onto the blade. It's power could be felt all around the room. Now, all these years later, Strider felt the power of the night around him again, more powerful than ever, as he sailed through the sky under a blanket of stars.

...

Guts was awakened by Wander giving him a tap with his foot.

"Huzznn... eh?" he snorted.

"It is time. Prepare yourself for landing."

The sun was shining in a beautiful dawn, full and warm upon them. Guts blinked the sleep from his eye and stretched away the night's toils. Wander pointed towards the helm of the colossus.

"Strider is there. We spotted land some time ago, so I came back to wake you. We must prepare our strike." he said.

"Finally!" Guts yawned. "I'm gettin' sick of this wind blowin' everything. Let's kill the bastard."

Guts made his way over to the edge of the beast to peer forward, and sure enough he saw land ahead. Green forests and rocky mountains as far as the eye could see. Best of all, no more desert, but worst of all, nowhere near where they had been yesterday. Their intentions of returning to Canas at the camp were now far and gone.

Far below, land passed underneath them. They were above land again, and could finally finish the task they set out to do over a week ago.

Strider made the troublesome trek back to Wander and Guts to see if they were ready. He could see Guts shouldering his sword, obviously antsy to kill something. They gathered in front of the flap farthest from the head.

"Wander, what is your plan?" Strider asked the boy.

"This part is movable," he showed them by sticking his foot underneath. "We just have to lift each flap, then I can deliver the blow."

"Let me guess," Guts said, "Your sword's got some kinda enchantment that kills these things better than ours?"

"Yes, exactly. How did you..."

"I'm used to weird weapons with fancy spells on 'em. And it makes sense, seeing as your planning on using a tiny blade to kill a massive thing, y'know. It better have some kinda power if its gonna kill this guy."

"It will, fear not." Wander said, inspecting his black blade.

"Alright, Guts, let's lift this flap," Strider told him.

"Yeah, yeah, I always gotta do the liftin', never the stabbin'..."

The men gripped under the bottom of the flap and pulled it up with relative ease, revealing the bright glowing green markings underneath, just as they'd hoped would be there.

"Ah, good, it's there. Now stab it!" Guts yelled over the wind to Wander.

"I suggest holding on tight, as we have no idea how the colossus will react," Wander warned them.

"Yeah, we'll handle it, probably," Guts answered confidently.

Wander moved under the flap and raised his sword over the marking. With a small grunt, he thrust the blade deep into the colossi's weak spot. The bright-green quickly faded to nothing. All three held on tightly in anticipation of a reaction, but none came. No sounds, no movements, until the flap they were holding up began to lower with incredible force.

"Get outta there!" Guts yelled to Wander. Wander rolled out, just as Strider and Guts could hold on no longer. The flap shot a gust of wind at them as it slammed close, knocking them back slightly. Guts and Strider had to take a breath after that short burst of weight.

"I-I guess this things got some muscles somewhere, huh," Guts huffed.

"It knows our plan now. The next two will not be so easy, I believe," Strider estimated.

"I think you are correct," agreed Wander. "But we mustn't halt. To the next!"

They did the same plan as before, but this time the flap would not budge, even with all three of them lifting. Guts had an idea to use himself and his sword as a lever to hoist the flap. He lay down in front of the flap, then Strider and Wander pushed Guts' sword as far as they could over him and under the flap. With it as far in as it could go, the two pushed down on the handle as hard as they could, but could only get it a few inches up. Guts looked like he was being crushed under the weight, also, so they gave up on this plan.

They stood thinking for a minute, then Guts thought of the obvious.

"What the hell are we doin'? Stand back, boys."

He grabbed his sword in his good hand and raised it high into the air. He angled it forward in a stabbing position, then, with a small leap, drove the blade straight through the flap, tearing more as he pulled it out. Now, there was a massive tear in the flap, allowing Wander to land a hit. As the second green marking faded away, the colossus, began to alter it's course. The three felt the floor under them begin to tilt forward, the wind blowing harder.

"It's diving!" Wander yelled. "Grab onto the fur!"

He was right, the colossus was finally reacting to the attack. It must have been trying to use the wind to blow it's tiny assailants away, but they held on firm. The wind was too strong to see clearly, but the ground was definitely fast-approaching. The speed was so great, the three started to get windburn on their exposed skin, but fortunately the colossus reared back to a horizontal level just as it was nearing the ground. While still moving at tremendous speed, Guts was able to get to his feet and move in the direction of the final weak point. All he could muster was a slow walk, however, and the flap was quite a walk away.

The colossus seemed to be slowing down to a normal speed again. Perhaps it thought the enemies had fallen off.

Guts trudged up to the flap, shut tightly. He got to work slashing and tearing away the tough material guarding the precious markings. Wander and Strider joined him.

"Alright! Let's land this thing already!" he yelled to them.

Wander took position among the tattered remains of the guarding flap. He raised his sword in one hand, holding it upside-down. It shone brightly in the sun, and with the stab, carried the sunlight into the colossus.

They watched silently. Nothing changed right away, but soon enough the colossi's wings fell to the sides, causing the whole thing to fall. It wasn't very high off the ground, making the impact less severe than it could've been, but nonetheless all three companions were launched off the sides and into the surrounding forest.

After a bit of tumbling, Strider found himself in a soft bush. How lucky. He rose out, surprised to find himself completely free from damage, although covered in dirt. He quickly found the black swordsman, who's landing wasn't so peaceful. He lay sprawled over a fallen tree that looked healthy enough to have been felled recently.

Strider jogged to the man.

"Guts, are you well? Guts?"

He looked a little battered, but he responded.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm still alive. Sadly enough."

He slid off the tree and smacked onto the dirt and leaves with a thud.

"How did you hold onto your sword through that?" Strider asked him.

It was true, Guts was still holding the ludicrously large sword in just one hand.

"I'll die before I let go of this sword, and it seems like death doesn't want me, so I'll hold onto this for the rest of time. I guess." he answered miserably.

"Life is a gift, my friend. You may not always want it, but you must always be thankful to those who would care to give you a gift. You wouldn't toss away a gift, would you?"

"Okay, cut this lesson crap out, you're reminding me of someone," Guts shot.

"Hopefully someone wise," Strider joked.

"He was somethin', alright. Where's Wander?"

The men looked around, but couldn't find the boy.

"He must've held on during the fall. We must find the beast." Strider led.

It didn't take long to find the path of destruction left from the colossus crashing through the forest. Torn-up dirt and mangled trees were strewn about a broken valley, and at the end of it, the colossi's body. Wander was standing on the ground in front of it.

"There he is! Looks like he's ok," Guts figured.

They took their time walking through the destroyed scenery that led to Wander. He remained motionless, which was odd. They arrived with greetings.

"You made it! You're made of some tough stuff, boy," Guts complimented.

Wander turned to them, his sword still in his hand.

"We've finished our task, my companions. You two have been a crucial asset to my success."

"OUR success, you mean," Guts corrected.

"No, my success. You see, now is where we part ways."

As Wander spoke, the massive body of the colossus behind him began to fade into physical shadow. It was a lot to take in.

"Guts, Strider, I brought you along and told you this monster was the cause of our problems. That was a lie."

Guts and Strider didn't speak, but Guts started gritting his teeth.

"I've fooled you into helping me complete a task that I could not complete alone. For this, I am honestly thankful, and I apologize for my deception. The colossus will now be absorbed into me, and I will be sent back to where I came."

"You mean this won't help us get back home?! This was all a trick just to help yourself!?" Guts shouted.

"As much as I hate to say it, yes, it is true. You probably can't understand, but I do it for the love of my life. I have to do this to save her. I'm sorry, but I'll do anything for her. I hope you can understand."

"Oh, I understand plenty," Guts bellowed as he raised his sword in both hands. "Understand this!"

But before he could swing, black tendrils shot forth from the body of the colossus. They sped to Wander, filling into his chest, and forcing him to his knees.

"What the hell?" Guts gawked.

"I'm sorry, my friends... I-I hope you find your answers soon. I'm s-sorry it had to end this way..."

"Bastard!" Guts roared, but Strider's hand held him back.

"Peace, Guts. Violence won't help now." he said calmly.

"That kid tricked us! We've wasted a week hunting this thing, and now only he gets to go home?!"

"That is how it appears. We can do nothing to stop it now."

The two watched as Wander's body was overtaken by shadow. Flakes of his being began to break off and float into the sky until there was nothing left of him or the colossus. The flakes flew high into the sky and disappeared behind the clouds.

"Well! We just wasted a week of our miserable lives helping that little creep! And on top of that, we haven't gotten a single clue on how we're supposed to get out of this world, and on top of even that, now we're across the ocean in a completely foreign land! We're screwed!"

Strider took it all in. The deceit. The battles. Their current position. This was a heavy blow to them. They still had no idea how they could start working towards getting home. All their hopes rested on Wander's directions, but he had lied in favor of himself.

"That treacherous mule..." Guts muttered to himself. "Why am I cursed to be betrayed by friends?! Can I trust no one!?"

Guts saw Strider looking off into the horizon.

"Ah, shit. I don't know what to think, Strider. I can trust you, can't I?"

"Guts, I don't know how I can prove myself after the terrible betrayal we've just witnessed, so you will have to have faith in my words: You can trust me, through life and through death, I shall honor my word."

Guts took a deep breath.

"Alright. Okay, I'm calm. Damn."

Both men stood silently for a while, each having a thousand thoughts racing through their heads. Now they would have to figure out a new course of action. The endless forest surrounding them was daunting and looming.

"Hey, thanks, man," Guts broke the silence. "Thanks for being trustworthy. It's put me at ease. I hope you trust me as well."

"Yes, I do. Thank you, also."

"Strider?"

"Yes?"

"You think we'll get outta this place?"

"Most certainly, with enough time."

"Yeah, I think so too. Just needed to hear someone else say it, ya know?"

They both laughed, briefly forgetting their predicament.

"So, uh, what now?" Guts asked.

"We keep moving forward until we find our answer," Strider decided.

"Sounds good. I'm right there with ya'."

They set off walking down the destroyed valley, heading in the opposite direction as the ocean. They were both eager to escape the saltwater scent.

Strider touched the orb in the sack around his waist, ensuring it was still there. It reacted to his touch, or so it seemed like it. There was something to this orb, Strider knew it. Somehow it would help them escape. But for now, all they could do was press on into the wilderness in hope of finding others and answers.


	12. Part 2: Rest and Triumph

PART TWO

Chapter 12: Rest and Triumph

Two days have passed since the betrayal of Wander. His trickery had caused Guts and Strider a great deal of strife within their thoughts, but also allowed them to strengthen their trust between each other. They both knew they would need trust to return back to their respective worlds.

The untraveled forest surrounding them provided shade from the sun shining unhindered from any clouds, yet it was still a hot trek through. Strider's plan was to locate a rise in the earth, a hill, or even a tall tree to climb. From their, he could possibly find somewhere they would want to go, such as the end of the forest. So far, no such luck. They continued onward through the brush with sweat on their backs and heads.

Then, the sound of running water.

"Wait, wait... shhh..." Guts silenced. "Do you hear that?"

Strider didn't stop, or even turn around.

"It is a river. I heard it several minutes ago. We will arrive in just a moment."

"Tch!" Guts forgot how well Strider could hear. "Didn't even bother telling me, eh?"

"No use wasting our energy talking, my friend. Save that for your sword."

"Humpf."

They broke out of the dense forest onto a little patch of grass alongside the river. The water was clear and glistening, and the grass was free of mud.

"Oh, thank you, earth!" Guts cried, heading down for a drink. "I think I was about to shrivel up."

Strider sat against a tree in the shade. This spot would be perfect for fishing, he thought. Shade, flat ground, clean water. What a beautiful country this was, wherever and whatever it was.

"Guts," Strider called out.

"Hmm?" Guts turned his head to listen.

"Why is it you have only one glove?"

Guts had been wearing just one glove, on his left hand, since Strider had met him. Not once had Strider seen him take it off.

"Oh, right. I keep it on so I don't freak people out." Guts answered, but didn't show Strider what he was talking about. Instead, he turned back down to the river.

"Would you tell me why it would frighten someone?"

This time Guts didn't look back. "It's also to help me forget."

Strider detected a fragment of Guts' past. He felt deep trauma within his words.

"Guts, show me. Help me understand you further."

Strider approached him. Guts hesitated, but complied. He pulled the long glove off his left hand, or what used to be a hand. He revealed a metallic replica of a hand and forearm, which featured several strange mechanisms.

"Is that all?" Strider commented in an attempt to make Guts less self-conscious about his addition. "I've known dozens of comrades who have lost arms and legs in battle. It's nothing to fear, or be ashamed of, my friend."

Guts looked deeply into his metal hand.

"It's not the injury itself, or the prosthetic that scares me, Strider. It's what it represents. But at the same time, even though it reminds me of pain, the worst pain a man could feel, it also reminds me of what must be done. My scars will not allow me to give up now."

Strider had never heard Guts speak with such philosophy and intent. His past had shaped him to become the battle-hardened swordmaster he is today.

They both looked into the river. It was beautiful.

"Tell me who you fight for," Strider spoke, his words echoing inside Guts' head.

Guts grinned lightly. Clever bastard figured it out, Guts thought to himself.

"Alright, Strider, I'll tell you. But first, you tell me something. Tell me your true name."

Strider rarely told people his true name when he was in a setting such as this. He liked to remain anonymous. But he knew he would have to be truthful in order for Guts to be truthful.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. Dunedain, Ranger of the North, and descendant of Isildur. Keeper of the Flame of the West, and supposed Guide of the One Ring."

Guts looked up to Strider to see the sun beaming onto him like magic. His eyes blazed like fire. His cloaked soared to his side with the wind. Guts was overcome with awe, but also fear. He had seen this image before, he knew it. Aragorn...

"You're a prince? Or something like that?!" Guts gawked, now on his feet.

"I do not favor titles, just Aragorn. I only allow my friends to call me that, and now, I request you refer to me as such.

"Aragorn... It's nice."

"You, Guts, have been a friend to me. Therefore I will call you my true friend, and my equal.

His words pierced Guts heart. True friend... Equal... Memories flooded into Guts' mind. A loved and hated voice appeared in his head:

"For a man to be my true friend, he must be my equal in every regard."

The words were forever burned into Guts' subconscious. Along them always came the same image: Black wings of darkness. But now, when the image flashed through his thoughts, something was different. Now, there was a single flame that extinguished the darkness. The flame was powerful, encouraging. Guts was filled with newfound hope, a feeling he hadn't felt in years. This man... Aragorn... was the light to guide him out of darkness.

"Aragorn. I'm doing it for... her."

...

The defenses of Mordor were no match for Isengard's power. The orcs of Mordor were in chaos and confusion, they couldn't figure out why other orcs were attacking them. It didn't take long for Isengard's forces to break through the Black Gate.

"There it is, Lord Femto," Saruman pointed to a tall tower in the distance. Above the spire was a blazing eye. Saruman dared not look directly into it from fear of Sauron's immeasurable power, but Femto looked straight into it. His eyes challenged Sauron's directly.

"Do not relent!" Saruman commanded the army. "We will cut our way to the tower!"

His army did not require any commands. They were happy enough just killing things. The forces of Mordor provided little resistance, their numbers dwindling to nothing in only an hour of invasion. Now, all that was left was to destroy the tower.

"March on Barad-Dur! Tear it from it's foundation!"

The orcs were approaching the tower uncontested, until the eye of Sauron flared, and the ground in front of the army crumbled away into a deep chasm. They were forced to stop.

"Master, Sauron is trying to prevent us from continuing. We must find a way around..."

Saruman watched his master raise one hand in front of himself, causing rocks and boulders to emerge from the depths. They lined up in front of each other, forming a bridge to the other side.

"Such power..." Saruman admired. "Go! Charge! Leave nothing in your wake!"

The orcs ran to the other side and began attacking the tower. Saruman used his staff to raise and hurl boulders at the building, inflicting massive damage. The eye of Sauron looked back and forth rapidly, shaking violently with each strike laid upon his tower. In this state, there was nothing he could do.

The tower soon tilted to the side. Saruman knew what came next.

"All forces! Retreat at once!" his voice amplified by his magic. The orcs retreated back across the bridge quickly, and once all safely on the other side, turned to watch as the tower of Barad-Dur crumbled and smashed into the earth below. Sauron's eye sent out a shockwave that shook the earth as he fell from the great height. The flames were extinguished.

The horde of orcs roared their victory to the skies. The seemingly-invincible Sauron was no match for their new master, the Hawk of Darkness.

"Master, our task is complete. Now, none may challenge your rule!"

Femto looked over the ruins of Sauron's tower. Now, the next phase may begin.

"Saruman, my faithful servant." Femto spoke.

"Yes, my lord."

"I will ask this of you. You have the most powerful force in all of Middle-Earth. Take what you need from the land, and build a powerful state here, in Mordor. This will become our kingdom, over which you will govern. This task I leave to you, for now I must go. I will return in time."

"I understand, master. Where will you go now?"

Suddenly, a hulking monster landed on the ground next to them. It was furry, had two great horns, and massive wings.

Femto walked to it.

"Now, I go to see an old friend."

Femto rose from the ground and landed upon the monster's back. Together, they flew into the distance and vanished beyond the mountains.

Saruman knew he had much work to do. It was now his task to build the most powerful empire the land had ever seen. He set off to begin work right away.

...

Femto and Zodd glode through the clouds at great speed. Their journey would take several days, even at such speeds. Femto reached his hand out in front of him. In the palm of his black hand appeared a small golden ring. Strange symbols appeared on the ring, seemingly burning with power. Femto placed the ring on his index finger. He felt it's power fill his body. He looked deeply into the ring.

The landscape below them zoomed by and cowered under the might of Femto.


	13. Yield to the Light

Chapter 13: Yield to the Light

A cool wind blew through the trees, generating a loud rustling of leaves. It blew ripples into the water, and leaves into the air.

The day was bright, sunny and peaceful. Birds sang from the treetops. Squirrels scurried along branches. A deer watched from the shade of the woods, two intimidating men dressed in dark attire, each emanating opposite auras.

"Did you feel that wind?" asked Aragorn, who had just finished filling a canteen with fresh river water.

"Mmm? Uh, probably just blew in from the ocean, or somethin'. We're still close enough, I guess." Guts figured.

Aragorn scanned the direction from where the breeze came intently. He listened, but all he heard was the river and a nut dropping from a tree. Maybe it was just the sea breeze.

"I can't believe they would send someone like you to guide a dwarf," Guts laughed in disbelief. "Seems like an awful waste of talent, if you ask me."

"A hobbit, my friend, a hobbit. A bit shorter, and much thinner. The task was quite important, and I think I would be the only one who could. I only pray they found someone else to assist the ring-bearer." Aragorn responded honestly.

"If it were up to me," Guts pointed a finger at Aragorn. "You'd be commander of the army, or somethin' like that. Ya' know? Not a tiny man's escort. But hell if I know."

The two men stood and decided on a route to take. There were significantly less trees and brush to the west, so that's where they headed, with no destination in mind.

"Guts, you said your life was taken from you during a great demonic ritual, and that you are now fighting for the sake of the one named Casca, correct?" Aragorn asked the man with the strangest past he's ever heard.

"Yeah, it was called the eclipse. Until now I've tried to bury the past deep in my thoughts, but I realize now I must use it to strengthen my ambition. I can't run from it for the rest of my life, however short it may be."

Aragorn paid attention to every word. Guts was finally going to reveal what happened to make him the way he is.

"The man whose respect I tried so hard to earn, the man I called my closest friend... he took everything from me. Our band followed him through thick and thin, never once questioning why. All we wanted was to serve him and help him achieve his goal. Until that day, when a black sun blocked the light of our sun, and pulled us into a demon world. Some of them even called it Hell. Heh... Hell was right. There were demons as far as the eye could see. And there were bigger demons, too. Called themselves the God-Hand. What an ugly bunch."

The two passed over a fallen log, one that could never rise again. Insects feasted on it's corpse.

"The God-Hand asked... him... Griffith, a question. Would he sacrifice the rest of us to get the power he chased his whole life? All he had to do was say, "I sacrifice", and, well, the rest is history. We were all given the brand of sacrifice, the thing on my neck, and the demons came at us. It was a damn slaughter. We stood no chance."

Guts looked into the sky through the trees. Aragorn stopped to look at him.

"Judeau, Pippin, Gaston, Corkus... C-Casca... all were taken from the world that day. All so that bastard, Griffith... could get his kingdom, his kingdom built on a foundation of blood. Now, he walks the earth as a god while our friends suffer for eternity."

"I thought you said you fight now for Casca, but you say she was also taken from the world along with the rest?" Aragorn questioned.

"Me and her escaped, but she left behind herself. Her mind is still trapped in that place, but her body came back. I'm thinking it was too much for her, so her body acted in defense, blocking the old Casca from seeing the light of day again."

"Guts, my words could never be worth nearly enough, but I will say it anyway. I am truly sorry for the fate that has befallen you. If ever we are able to return to our worlds, be they separate planes or not, if I am in a position to assist you in your mission, you will have my sword fighting with you."

Aragorn put his hand on Guts shoulder.

"Guts, we can beat him. Do not lose faith."

Guts sighed deeply. "Yeah. We can."

...

They traveled for another day with no sign of civilization, but finally they had found a tall hill to gaze from. It went uphill for 50 feet, then flattened out to a plateau. It was free of trees, only grass and a few boulders. From the top they saw more forest as far as they could see. It was a discouraging sight for the both of them, but they knew they couldn't stop now.

The same cool wind as before blew through the air. It chilled both men. This time, there was no way it came from the ocean, they were much too far inland for that. Aragorn knew this wasn't right.

"Guts can you-" Aragorn stopped at the sight of Guts' neck leaking blood. That could only mean one thing.

"There are demons nearby. They are coming," Guts warned. He pulled his massive sword from it's hook. "It's been a while since I got to swing this thing around!"

They both looked in all directions, but no sign of any movement. Where were the demons? And why weren't they being repelled by Aragorn's amulet?

Guts put a hand over the brand of sacrifice. He squeezed the skin surrounding it.

"The pains... getting worse. It... must be something big." he managed to spit out.

Still, nothing but wind through leaves. Guts fell down to his knee, clutching his neck tightly.

"Argh! This... this is something else!"

Aragorn found the source. Miles above them in the sky soared a large beast, one he was quite familiar with. It was unmistakable. Zodd.

The beast began diving at them with great speed. He was coming back for the orb! Aragorn felt it in it's sack at his hip. It was still there. He readied his sword and stance.

"Guts, it is Zodd. He has come back for the orb." Aragorn said, but Guts couldn't respond. He was overcome with a burning sensation.

Zodd slowed down before landing. He met the earth with a quite thud, which surprised Aragorn. Zodd always was loud and imposing.

"Must we defeat you again, demon?!" Aragorn yelled to the beast. "We will kill you as many times as it takes!"

Zodd had no response. Instead, he knelt down, allowing a beaming figure of light to step off his back. It was a man, but he was more like the sun. Aragorn help his sword forward in warning.

"Who are you?! What is your purpose here!?" Aragorn yelled over the wind, but no answer came. Instead, the man, or maybe the angel, walked towards him and Guts. Aragorn was taken back by how beautiful this man was. The sight of him filled Aragorn with inspiration.

"Guts do you know who this is..." Aragorn asked, but noticed Guts' expression. He was staring at the man with the most intense emotion Aragorn had ever seen. This was someone from Guts' past, it was certain.

The man stood 10 feet from Aragorn. His mere presence seemed to affect the world. No one said anything for a full minute. Guts was trying to say something, but he couldn't formulate any words. Aragorn knew from Guts' expression exactly who this man was. It was obvious to him now.

"You are Griffith," he accused. "The Hawk."

Griffith looked down at his former ally, struggling to stand. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Guts felt the pain leave his body. He stood to his feet.

"You..." he whispered through bitter rage and grit teeth. No one moved an inch, they simply stood watching each other. Guts and Aragorn were in battle stances, but Griffith just stood there casually.

"You have something I require," Griffith said to Aragorn, pointing to the orb's sack. "Please, hand it to me."

"I know what you've done, demon," Aragorn answered. "You're a murderer, a traitor, and a coward. I will not give you the orb."

Griffith's eyes pierced Aragorn's soul. "You would only be prolonging the inevitable."

Guts stepped forward. He was so furious he had trouble standing.

"Where. I-Is. Sh-She." he barely managed to say. Griffith didn't answer the question. Instead, he turned back to Aragorn.

"Do you wish to help this man, Aragorn, son of Arathorn?"

Aragorn was shocked by his words. Not many knew his name.

"This man is my friend, as he was once yours. I will not betray him as a coward would."

Griffith's stare was unchanging. His long white hair blew across his face.

"You know what it is he wants. Go now. Give him that which he desires most."

Aragorn didn't understand. "What do you mean..."

He was cut off by an explosion of light that filled his entire view, followed quickly by an endless darkness. He was unsure of what was happening, but he felt his body become lighter than air, and faster than light.

...

Aragorn awoke in a grassy field. He felt like he had had the weirdest dream. He rubbed his head as he sat up, then quickly remembered the situation. He looked all around him with great urgency, but couldn't find Guts, Griffith, or Zodd. In fact, he found himself in a completely foreign location. There was a forest to his right, but the rest was grassy hills. There was a calming wind blowing through the area peacefully.

Aragorn tried to remember what happened, but all he could think of was meeting Griffith, then white, then dark. Next, he woke up here. His sword was in it's sheathe thankfully, and the orb...

"No..." he said, frantically looking around for the relic. The orb was gone! The sack was empty! Griffith had taken it.

"Guts!" he called into the field. "Are you there!?" but no response came. Aragorn rose to his feet and set off into the hills. He had to find out where he was, fast. He ran with good pace over many hills and through many trees. Thankfully, being part elf granted him an impressive energy supply, allowing him to run for days at a time. He hoped he wouldn't have to run for long before he found something that could help.

Within twenty minutes of running he heard voices coming from behind the next hill. He slowed down to minimize his noise, and creeped around to get a look at who was there. He found a patch of bushes that perfectly blocked anyone from seeing him as he looked on.

"Finally, something goes right for us for once!" a man's voice said snidely. Aragorn looked to see three men grabbing at defenseless young woman. One held her down while the other two tore off her clothes. Aragorn knew exactly what they were planning. The girl screamed in utter terror, but to no avail. She was powerless to stop them.

"Quit yer squirmin, girly! This is gonna feel real good, y'hear?" the short, fat one said. The tall, lanky one held her arms down, while the middle-height man held her legs down. The short one positioned himself over her.

"Now you just sit tight, and this'll all be over in a... Urk...

The short one was interrupted by a blade piercing his heart. He died before he even knew what happened. Aragorn lifted his lifeless body, still on the sword, and flung it 10 feet to the side. The other two scrambled back, and clumsily climbed to their feet. They pulled their swords.

"Wha-what the hell!? Who're you?!"

Aragorn walked slowly towards them, his eyes full of rage.

"There is no man lower than he who would force himself on a woman..."

"Who do you think you are, man?!" the tall one said as he raised his sword above his head. Before he could even blink, his throat spewed forth a fountain of blood. He fell to the ground, never to rise again.

"Gods, no!" the remaining man said. "Please! Spare me! I wasn't going to do anything! I swear!"

The man blinked, and Aragorn was standing in front of him with his sword through his gut. "Urgh!"

"Tell me," Aragorn whispered in his ear. "If your Gods spare you."

With that, he ripped the sword out of the man, who fell to the ground. Blood pooled in his mouth. He was no more.

"Unforgivable... Now, you can hurt no one." Aragorn said as he turned back to the girl, but she wasn't there. Instead, he saw her running away into the forest nearby. She hadn't even bothered to put her clothes back on.

"Hey! Wait!" Aragorn called, but she didn't listen. She continued on into the forest.

Aragorn grabbed her clothes and ran after her. It didn't take him long to catch up to her, as her run was clumsy, and she stumbled over everything. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stop.

"Hey! Just wait a moment..." he tried to say as she punched him in the face with surprising strength. He held on, but was surprised by her might.

"Stop running! I'm not here to hurt you!" he tried to explain, but she kept pulling away.

"Hey! Do you understand me? I'm trying to help!"

The girl kept screaming rather than answering. It was clear she was not sound in the head. Then, a voice echoed in Aragorn's head: "Her body escaped, but her mind stayed in that place." "Go now. Give him that which he desires most."

Aragorn knew who this was. This was the one Guts desired most. This was Casca.

He dropped her clothes and grabbed her arms with both his hands. He pulled her face within an inch of his own, and stared through her eyes. They told him everything. She stared back at his, and stopped pulling away.

"It's ok," he whispered. "I'm going to help you."

He gave her a warm smile that calmed the air around them. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. For the first time in over a year, she felt... safe.

"Oohhhh, ahh..." came from her. Despite her broken sanity, Aragorn knew he had earned her trust.

"Ahh!" she wailed as she pushed herself into his arms. She cried. And she cried. And she cried. For ten minutes. They dropped to the ground, and Aragorn hugged her close.

"I'm going to bring you to your friend, Guts, ok? He really wants to see you. He has so much to tell you."

"Buuu... B-Buu..."

"Now, let's get up. I think we have to do some walking."

He helped her up, the whole time Casca never took her eyes off of him.

"Oh! And I brought your clothes. We cannot go walking without any clothes, can we?" he said lightly. He helped her dress, and gave her his canteen of water, which she drank until it was empty.

"Hmm... you're probably hungry, too. I'll see if I can catch a rabbit or a deer on the way."

"Mmmmuuhhhh!"

They set off into the hills and fields to find Guts. This was not the quest Aragorn had in mind when he set off several weeks ago, but somehow, something was telling him that this was more important than guiding the ring. Somehow, the fate of the world rested on his, Casca's, and Guts' shoulders.


	14. The Town

Chapter 14: The Town

Guts awoke to the muffled sound of voices chatting nearby, obscured by the constant assault of heavy rain falling onto the ground around him. Before he opened his eyes, he could feel his entire body soaked through, as if he had been stuck in an underwater dream for hours, and above all else, he was so cold he wondered how he was even alive. There he lay, in the grass and mud, staring up into the black clouds. Occasionally, thunder rolled through the heavens overhead, as if they were trying to wake him up, but he was already awake, though he didn't feel like moving just yet. Somehow, even though the rain chilled him to the core, he felt at peace, a rare feeling for him. Guts didn't want to move just yet.

Then he squeezed his sword-hand, finding nothing blocking him from making a fist. He shot upright, unable to find it anywhere around him, not on him, not around him. The Dragonslayer was gone.

"No!" Guts shouted. He refused to lose that sword. It had become a part of him that he couldn't live without. "Where is it!?"

"How pitiful," a voice said, a few meters away. Guts, still on his knees, turned to see two men, drenched from the rain, walking by. He couldn't see their faces.

"I'm piss-drunk, but at least I don't take a nap in the mud," one said to the other, before walking out of Guts' earshot. Guts was too confused to remember to ask them were they were, or who they are. Instead, he knelt there, in the cold and mud, bewildered out of his mind. What happened? Where did Aragorn go? All he could remember was travelling with him through an endless forest, on an unknown land.

He surveyed the area, quickly finding a wide wooden building directly in front of him. How he didn't see it immediately, he wasn't sure, but he knew now that he was in the yard behind this building. He looked around some more, seeing gravel paths, fences, and more buildings. One building had a roofed area outside, wherein a short, hairy man banged some metal with a hammer. A blacksmith, clearly. Guts got up out of the mud to inspect the area further. Was this a town? Had he finally found civilization?

He rounded the building, seeing horse-drawn carriages, cloaked people walking down the road, people smoking on pipes, much like the one Aragorn carried. Some people seemed to be staring at Guts. This was a village, or town. Finally!

In the front of the building, Guts saw a sign hanging above the door. He had to shield his eyes with his hands to get a good look, due to the rain's endless barrage. The sign read: The Prancing Pony, along with a carving of a small horse standing on it's hind legs. There were people of all heights going in and coming out at all times. Whatever this was, it sure was popular. The people coming out were noticeably less coordinated than those going in. That could only mean one thing: this was a tavern. It also meant an escape from the cold. Guts didn't wait any longer.

Upon entering the pub, it was obvious Guts was right in his assumptions. The whole place smelled of alcohol and sweat. The tavern was packed, with people lining every table and every stool. All except one table and chair, in the corner of the lively room, hidden by shadow. The table was completely empty.

Guts took a step inside, revealing himself to the crowd. In an instant, chatter died down, becoming a quiet chit-chat, rather than a drunken festival. Almost everyone in the room eyed him, either looking straight at him, or out of the corner of their eye. They all looked at the massive man dressed in dark, whose hair was dripping with rain and mud, and whose cloak and armor was caked with nature. Truly a sight to behold, and to top it all off, he wore a metal hand on his left arm, and had one eye closed.

"Welcome, stranger," someone said to him. Guts looked down to see a short, fat man scrubbing a mug with a cloth. He wore an apron, so must've worked here. He had a bushy mustache that connected to his sideburns, and eyes that had seen thousands of visitors. "Don't think I've seen your chops around here, heh?"

Guts took a moment to respond. He had a million thoughts running through his head. "Uh, y-yeah, I'm new here."

"Mmhmm," the man mumbled, looking down at his mug. "Come on over at sit at the bar. I can tell you're a man with many questions."

The man read Guts' mind, but Guts didn't even acknowledge it. He went and sat at the bar, while the man walked around to the other side.

"Name's Butterbur, but you can call me Barliman," he announced. "I run this here tavern and inn, so if you've got any questions, you come to me, y'hear? Oh, and try not to touch anything above waist-level. Don't want mud on the tabletops, yeah?"

Guts had forgotten that he was covered in mud and rain, but he hardly cared.

"Barliman, I need to know where I am, and what happened," Guts started with. Barliman didn't understand the second question.

"I don't know what you mean by "what happened," but I can tell you where ya are. You're in The Prancing Pony, the finest tavern this side of the Misty Mountains!" Barliman beamed. Guts just looked at him with a face of fatigue and desperation.

"The Prancing Pony? You know, Bree?" he hinted, but Guts had no idea what he was talking about. "C'mon, son, don't you know Bree?"

"Listen, barkeep, I don't think I'm from around here, and I certainly don't know where I came from, if that makes any sense. I was in the woods with my companion, looking for civilization, then, I woke up in your yard, in the mud. You must know how I got here."

Barliman thought his hardest, but he truly didn't know how Guts could've ended up in the back.

"Maybe someone knocked you out and dumped you here?" he guessed, but Guts knew that was unlikely. He was with Aragorn, and no one in existence could sneak up on Aragorn. Unless... Aragorn himself hit Guts unconscious, then brought him here? No, that wouldn't make any sense. He had no reason to do that.

"Do you know a man named Aragorn?" Guts asked. "Usually wears a hood, he's got a stubble, shady."

"Never heard of an Aragorn," Barliman answered as he picked up another dirty mug. Guts thought of more questions to ask, but then he remembered something Aragorn told him a few days ago: "I only allow my friends to call me that."

"Have you heard of a man named Strider?"

Barliman's head stayed pointed at the mug in his hands, but his eyes shot up to Guts. He looked at him for ten full seconds, silently.

"The ranger, eh? I knew there was something about you, stranger." he said, stepping out from behind the bar. "Come with me, lad."

He lead Guts upstairs to a room, decorated with a painting, flowers, a table and a bed. This must be one of the rooms people could rent out here, Guts thought. Barliman pointed to a dark corner in the room.

"I believe this is yours. We found it outside earlier."

Guts looked into the shadow, and saw a comforting sight. His sword, Dragonslayer, standing tall against the wall. It's weight was making a chip in the floorboards where the point sat.

"Though I don't know how you brought that with you. It took three men to carry it up the stairs..." Barliman explained, but stopped when he saw Guts lift the sword with one hand, hooking it on his back.

"Yeah, you're definetely one of Strider's friends," Barliman assumed. "You must've heard what happened to the Ring."

The ring? Guts remembered Aragorn talking about a ring. Something about it's destruction being crucial, or something like that.

"Yeah, those poor hobbits. Just got tied up in something that was bigger than they were."

"Hobbits?" Guts asked. "What about hobbits?"

Barliman looked sad. "You haven't heard? Someone found out the hobbits had the ring, and found them. He... he killed them, and took it for himself. He couldn't have been Sauron, 'cause we'd all be dead already. Whoever took it, though... now has some fine power in their hands."

Guts also remembered Aragorn talking about a Sauron. Lord of evil, trying to destroy the world, or conquer it. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Guts decided to try to get more information, as it might be of use to Aragorn.

"Do you know anything about the man who took the ring?"

Barliman thought for a moment. "All we know is from a bystander who happened to be travelling the road at the time. Poor man, looked like he'd seen a ghost."

Barliman Butterbur took a seat. Standing had clearly tired him out.

"He said the man who took the Ring was like an angel. Said he came down from the heavens, riding upon a giant beast. He had long, white hair, glistening white armor... damn, he honestly sounds like an angel, doesn't he?"

Barliman stopped when he saw Guts staring. "Something wrong, son?"

The memories came back to Guts like a waterfall. The plateau, with Aragorn. Then, _He_ came to them. The one who cost Guts everything. Then white, then dark.

"Wh-where, did he go..." Guts said quietly.

"The lad said he took off into the sky again, heading south-west. My guess is he's off to Mordor, or Gondor. Same direction, both of them."

Gondor. Aragorn's home. Guts knew He had sent him here, to Aragorn's homeland of Middle-Earth.

"South-west of here?" Guts clarified.

"Yessir. But it isn't close. No sir, it isn't. On foot, it could take you a year. And that's no lie!"

Guts fumed. _He_ was here, wherever here was. But so far away... what could he do?

"If you're really itching to meet this angel-man, you'd best find the wizard, Gandalf. He has tricks to cross the country quickly, so I've heard."

Guts was ready to do anything. "Wizard? where can I find this wizard?"

"You're certainly excited to get a move on, huh? Gandalf has a knack for finding those who're looking for him. If you want my advice, head south-west. I can almost guarantee you'll meet him along the way."

Guts went for the door straight away. There was no time to lose. Who knew what... _He_ would do with Aragorn. And... Casca. Guts had to move, now.

"Aren't you gonna get cleaned up a bit, before you go on another adventure, stranger?" Barliman offered, but Guts shook his head. Barliman understood this must've been urgent. "South-west is that-a-way," Barliman said, pointing in a direction.

"If you somehow happen to see Strider before I do, tell him Guts is looking for him, and the Ring." Guts informed the barkeep, who nodded. With that, Guts headed down the stairs, and out into the rainy road. He saw the blacksmith again, still pounding away at metal, generating many sparks. He reminded Guts of someone.

As Guts strode down the road, passing many residents, he thought about the situation. He was in Aragorn's world, and so was the Hawk. Then it was possible Aragorn and Casca were here, too! And if so, Guts would stop at nothing to find them.

Then he thought of what Barliman had told him, about the Hawk taking the ring of power. All the power, the power to destroy the world, in _His_ hands. It was a scary thought, but Guts wasn't deterred. He kept moving forward, as he always had.


	15. Edge of Memory

Chapter 15: Edge of Memory

Guts walked through the town of Bree, drenched more than he'd ever been before. It reminded him of the time he had to swim out of a flowing river in full armor, which was somehow a pleasant memory.

The town of Bree was quite advanced in it's handling of the rain. The roads all tilted to the south ever so slightly, and alongside them were dug-out lines in the dirt, allowing for the intense waterflow to gather and travel down and into the wilderness. Perhaps it rains often enough here to justify dedicated waterways. Even still, there were puddles scattered everywhere, and ditches looked more like ponds.

Guts noticed just how many people were travelling the main road in Bree. Was it not night? Why were so many people walking around town when it was so dark and rainy? They were seemingly used to the weather, if that was even possible. The rain could drive a man mad. But, perhaps it wasn't night at all. That would explain why there's no demons around. Maybe it was early morning, or the afternoon, but the clouds were too thick to see any sunlight. Whatever it was, Guts had seen enough rain for one lifetime.

"Hey buddy", someone said behind Guts. Guts thought he was talking to someone else, so he didn't turn until the man said, "Excuse me! Tall guy!"

Guts turned and saw 4 hooded men of similar height to one another, standing in a line ten feet away.

"Is that thing you have supposed to be a sword?" the center-most one asked. Guts ignored the question.

"What do you want", he said without emotion.

"We just wanna see what you have on ya', pally", the man snickered. "If ya' catch my drift."

Guts knew what they were now: robbers. They probably had swords or knives on them.

"I've got way too much on my mind to deal with you louts. Piss off."

They all pulled their swords, as if they planned Guts would resist.

"The big ones are always fighters! It gets annoying after a while, ya' know? C'mon, boys. Let's teach 'im some manners."

They started walking closer, but, to their surprise, Guts turned and walked away. They thought he would try to use that big sword for sure. The weirdest part was he didn't even run, he just walked casually away from them.

"I've seen cowards try to run before, but they've never been as big as you!" the man yelled at Guts. "With that body, you woulda made a fine mercenary, kid!"

Guts kept walking. Passerbys turned away when they seen what was happening.

"That son of a... Alright, let's get the bastard!" the supposed leader yelled. They ran at Guts, swords drawn, their footsteps amplified by the rain on the road, but stopped just short of the man. They froze at the sight of his face. Scars, dirt, only one eye... this was a man who had seen combat. The one eye he did have somehow seemed to stare at all four of them at once, with terrible power. The same thought entered all four of their minds at once: Could this man actually wield that sword?

"I told you, I don't have time for this. Go rob someone else," Guts warned, turning back to his way. The bandits stood there, watching the stranger walk through the rain miserably.

"What was with that guy, boss?"

"Couldn't tell ya', mate, but that guy's trouble. I can almost feel something off about him, and I ain't in the mood for findin' out what his deal is. Let's scram, boys."

The bandits scurried off into the darkness, and people started walking the street again. They whispered about a man with a sword far too big to hold, even for the strongest man around.

...

Guts traveled for 6 hours before the rain stopped. He had managed to distance himself from the town of Bree considerably for such a time, and, looking back, could see the endless sea of black clouds hanging above the poor town. They were unmoving, even through the wind, as if the town itself was cursed to have constant rain forever, but Guts couldn't care less about that puny town now, he was free of it's depressing atmosphere. It reminded him of himself too much.

Looking forward, Guts saw sunlight and blue sky over the beautiful landscape. All the rain nearby must have been doing wonders for the foliage: Clear rivers ran all throughout the fields, and the greenest trees Guts had ever seen dotted the area. The path ahead would be peaceful, for the time being, anyway. Gandalf will most likely be found in this direction, Barliman had said, and if not, this was the way to Gondor, Guts' only lead on finding his friends.

A carriage drawn by horse appeared down the road ahead. It wasn't too big, and appeared to be occupied by a lone man. As it got closer, Guts saw that it was an old man with white hair and a beard. Could this be the wizard Barliman spoke of?

"You need a ride, boy?" the old man said to Guts, who realized he had been staring at the elderly driver. "You look like you've got something on your mind... What... what in Middle-Earth is that thing on your back..."

"Are you Gandalf?!" Guts quickly asked, not even hearing the question about his sword.

"Gandalf, eh? Yer lookin' for the one named Gandalf?"

"Yes, are you him?!" Guts pushed. The old man leaned back and closed his eyes and scratched his beard.

"Sorry, son. I'm not Gandalf. Good thing, too! No tellin' what I'd do with that kinda power... Make myself young and spry again, I think! Harhar!"

Guts was disappointed, but not deterred. He bid farewell, but the old man stopped him.

"Now just a darn minute, laddy. You look like you've been through hell and back," he said, pointing at Guts' soaked and muddied figure. "How 'bout you hop in and have a rest before ya' get going. It'll do ya' wonders." the old man offered.

"I have no time to waste, old-timer," Guts barked and turned back to the road. Before he could, a girl's head popped out from inside the carriage.

"Oh! He's scary-looking, Gran'pa!" she tried to whisper to the man, but Guts heard what she said. Guts looked at them both, as if he'd seen them before.

"Alright, sonny, we'll leave ya' to yer Gandalf-huntin'. But you really should at least wash off. We've got some bread and water too... what's yer problem?" the old man asked once he noticed Guts staring at the two of them intensely. He had remembered this scene. It happened before, or at least this was similar.

"G-get away from me... As fast as you can! Go! Now!" Guts screamed at them, then turned and ran off down the road. The two in the carriage just watched him run away as if he were some kind of madman.

"What in the world... That man's got some trouble on his mind, lass," the elder said.

Guts ran until he couldn't see them behind him anymore. He had remembered the elderly man and his granddaughter that he met back in his world, and what had happened to them. Guts didn't want another situation like that again, so he decided to get away from there, for their sake.

Guts continued south-west in search of Gandalf, the wizard. There was no rest in sight for the Black Swordsman.


	16. Land Unknown

Chapter 16: Land unknown

"A reliable means of discovering something out of place is to listen to the birds in the trees, for they serve as accurate scouts of danger. If a bird, for instance, felt threatened, it would make it's situation known, by means of expressive, erratic song. Birds convey much emotion in their sweet voices, therefore in order to understand them, we must simply understand music," Aragorn explained to Casca, who was much too busy inspecting a shiny rock she found.

"By their song, I can see that there is something unwelcome in the forests surrounding us. If we are lucky, it will just be a feral animal, perhaps a fox, posing a threat to the nearby avian populous, but I fear that is not the case."

The chirping of the birds was loud, fast, and told a simple message: flee. It was nothing unlike Aragorn had heard before, but that was the part that worried him most. The last time he had heard birds in such a panic was when he was stalking a band of orcs, as they ravaged the land they walked on. Despicable creatures, as always.

The road upon which the two followed had delved into a valley, disallowing Aragorn from seeing anything about the path ahead. Nonetheless, it was still a road, and all roads lead to civilization, one way or another. He just hoped they would find somewhere to stay soon, before the night shrouded them.

Casca touched the bow on Aragorn's back inquisitively, or as inquisitively as she could manage.

"Pretty, is it not?" Aragorn asked, expecting no response. "A young girl gave it to me, in a land long behind us. It has an incredible range, and an impressive draw-weight. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why she wanted me to have it so badly: she herself knew she would not likely ever be strong enough to wield it properly. Of course, that is far from the truth. Anyone can do anything, through effort, dedication and practice. I promised I'd return the bow when our quest was complete, but I am unsure if that is possible now. I will try to the best of my ability, of course, as I believe she will one day learn to wield a bow of such power."

Casca's gaze failed to stay in one spot for more than a moment, her attention constantly shooting elsewhere.

"I heard you defied your own nature, Casca. From what your friend Guts told me, you're an impressive swordsman. One who does not yield to the limits of themself is one who truly possess power. I hope to spar with you one day."

His words fell on deaf ears, but this he knew. He spoke mainly to himself, and his own doubts, and to make a promise that he would one day test the strength of the warrior Casca.

...

A pair of eyes spotted the two wanderers from atop a side of the valley. Though they were far away, he knew who he saw. He grabbed his combat gear and sprinted down the hill.

Aragorn heard movement in the grass beside him, several yards up the hill. He saw a young man running at him, carrying a sword at his waist and a contraption on his arm. The lad couldn't have been older than 18.

Aragorn turned to face the the oncoming boy, but as he drew near, Aragorn could see that the contraption upon his arm was some form of bow, with an arrow loaded inside. The boy held it forward, aimed and prepared to fire, a look of deep focus on his face. Aragorn gripped his sword handle and watched the boy run to him. In his head, he tried to form a plan that accounted for every possibility, but the presence of Casca complicated everything he could think of. There was no course of action that could protect them both without fail, so he had to make a decision. He pulled two inches of his blade from it's sheathe, grabbed Casca and pulled her behind him, and waited. If the boy shot, he would have to rely on his chainmail.

"Hold!" the boy commanded as he came to a stop. He was close enough for a clear shot, a fact that Aragorn disliked much. "Take your hand off the sword. Now!"

Aragorn didn't reply, nor did he remove his hand from Narsil. His face remained unchanged, but he understood how bad the situation was. Somehow, he could tell the boy would not miss a shot.

"I won't ask again," the young man reinforced, taking a step forward. "I promise you this isn't my first time using this thing."

Casca tried to see what was happening behind Aragorn, but he held her firm.

"Hand her over, and I'll let you be on your way," the boy bargained. "You have my word."

The discipline in his voice told Aragorn much. This boy was not a common thug. Perhaps a state guard in training. Aragorn felt inclined to reply.

"I will not part with this woman. I have sworn to return her to a friend, and I shall see it through. Now, will you aide me, or thwart me?"

The boy was clearly taken back by Aragorn's verbal elegance, but it wasn't enough to sway him from his stance. "Yeah, I can imagine who your "friend" would be. He probably promised you a lot of gold in exchange for a woman who can't defend herself. I can see why he would want her."

"You are mistaken. Now, decide your course of action quickly. Shall you engage me, or will you stand down?" Aragorn stated.

"My apologies, but I too must deliver that woman to a friend, and I won't back down."

What? This boy knew Casca?

Aragorn straightened slightly. "Your friend, what is he called?"

The lad unknowingly lowered his arm-weapon slightly in thought. A rookie mistake on the battlefield, and one Aragorn knew well.

"You wouldn't know him. Hardly anyone does these days." he trailed off, his eyes leaving Aragorn.

Seizing the opportunity, Aragorn extended his right arm forward, hurling an item he had been concealing: Casca's shiny rock. The boy, startled, looked back to Aragorn and attempted to raise the weapon back up, but the stone struck his hand, causing him to pull it back in pain. Confused, he looked down to see the rock, but then realizing that his opponent was already almost to him. The boy ripped his sword from it's sheathe and held it forward, prepared to engage, but with a single strike from Aragorn's blade, the much smaller sword was sent flying. Aragorn kicked the boy hard in the chest, knocking him off his feet and sending him to his back, it all happening in mere seconds. Aragorn's cloak fluttered to a stop as the situation went silent. Narsil's tip waited an inch from the boy's throat, waiting for it's master's force.

"The girl is coming with me, lad." Aragorn announced.

The boy knew he was defeated, yet he refused to let them go.

"You can't take her! She has to come with me! You don't understand the danger shes in!"

Aragorn was stricken with a memory. He remembered back to when Guts was explaining about Casca, and the Eclipse. She was branded that day, just as Guts was. Then that means...

"Boy, tell me if you know. On our path earlier, the birds were in an uproar, as if something was encroaching on their space. Could this have been... demons?" Aragorn asked, expecting the boy to look at him like he was forgone in the head.

"You know about the brand, don't you?" the boy asked. "You know what comes at night."

They both stared at each other for a moment, then the boy asked," Your friend... is his name... Guts?"

...

Aragorn and the boy ran up the hills of the valley with great speed, under a setting sun. Upon his shoulder Aragorn carried Casca, who didn't weigh him down much.

"How is it possible that this cave you speak of can ward off demons?" Aragorn yelled as they ran. The boy was much too out of breath to respond in a normal fashion, instead spitting out: "Elves... Magic... smothers the... brand..."

A house came into view atop the hill they were ascending. The boy said that the cave was behind it. All they had to do was make it just a bit further...

The sun blazed it's farewell and disappeared behind the horizon, ushering in the night. As if on queue, Aragorn could hear loud stomps behind them, something approaching fast. He turned his head for just a moment and saw a massive four-legged beast, like a wolf that crawled from the mouth of Hell. It was going to reach them before they could get to the cave.

Aragorn placed Casca down and took his bow into his hands.

"Take her! Get to the cave!" he commanded the young man.

"OkaAHHHHHH!" the boy screamed when he saw what was behind them. He grabbed Casca's arm and lead her for the cave.

Aragorn notched an arrow and fired it just as quickly. It met the beast's face, but, to Aragorn's surprise, it didn't even slow it down, instead enraging the monster. It charged forward.

Aragorn rolled out of it's reach just as it neared him. It slowed to a stop, then beginning to circle him slowly. Aragorn could see it clearly now: it lacked eyes, instead there were two jagged lines replacing them. It's mouth was enormous, housing a long, dripping tongue and a hundred razor-sharp teeth. The strangest thing of all was how it seemed to exist in a state of pure shadow, as if the darkness had manifested itself with a pool of black hatred. Looking at this beast of darkness reminded Aragorn of his first encounter with Guts, though he couldn't understand why.

The beast of darkness lunged for it's second attack, narrowly missing Aragorn, who pulled out his longsword, knowing it would be of no use here. He would have to run. He just needed to distract the beast long enough for him to make it to the cave. Before he could come up with a plan, the beast attacked again, though this time there was no time to dodge. Aragorn leapt just over the beast's bite, landing on it's back and sending it into a rampage. It twisted and flailed wildly, but Aragorn held onto it's black fur firmly, though it burned his hands, as if the beast was filled with such hatred that it became physical and took the form of heat. In it's wild rampage, the beast of darkness failed to realize it had gone over a steep edge of the hill. Aragorn hopped off as it tumbled down the slope for a few seconds before regaining it's footing. Aragorn took this chance to make a dash for the cave with all his remaining might. He saw the narrow cave entrance ahead, but also heard the beast behind him. With great speed and power, he dove into the cave just as the devilish monster bit down at him, tearing a large shred out of his cloak, but leaving him unharmed. The beast pawed at him, but the effort was wasted. It angrily turned and walked down the hill, morphing into the darkness.

Aragorn, lying facedown on the stone, looked up to see the cave. There was a gate, a flowing waterfall, and three people, two of them he knew. He got up and dusted himself off, then headed down into the beautiful cave before him.


End file.
